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Wabash Cannonball Traditional
When this song first appeared (1880's), there was no actual train called "The Wabash Cannonball".
The route described by the lyric is geographically impossible (or economically impractical).
A railroad eventually did name a train after this song but it did not run from coast to coast.
Some of the verses included here are similar variations - make up your own and add to the legend!
Out [G]from the wide Pacific to the broad Atlantic [C]shore
She [G]climbs the flowery mountains, over hills and by the [D]shore
She's [G]mighty tall and handsome and she's known quite well by [C]all
She's a [C]modern combi-[G]nation, the [D]Wabash Cannon-[G]ball.
Oh, [G]listen to the jingle, the rumble and the [C]roar
As she [G]glides along the woodland, over hills and by the [D]shore
She [G]climbs the flowery mountains, hear the happy hobos [C]call
As she [C]glides along the [G]woodland, the [D]Wabash Cannon-[G]ball.
This [G]train, she runs to Memphis, Mattoon, and Mexi-[C]co,
She [G]rolls through East St. Louis, And she never does it [D]slow,
As she [G]flies through Colorado, She gives an awful [C]squawl,
They can [C]tell her by her [G]whistle, the [D]Wabash Cannon-[G]ball
. . .
She [G]came down from Birmingham one cold December [C]day
And [G]as she stood there in the roundhouse you could hear the people [D]say
"There's a [G]gal from Tennesee and, man, she's long and she's [C]tall.
She came [C]down from Birming-[G]ham on the [D]Wabash Cannon-[G]ball"
. . .
Oh the [G]Eastern states are dandy, so the Western people [C]say
Chi-[G]cago, Rock Island, St. Louis by the [D]way
To the [G]lakes of Minnesota where the rippling waters [C]fall
No [C]changes can be [G]taken on the [D]Wabash Cannon-[G]ball.
. . .
Ive [G]rode the I.C. Limited, also the Royal [C]Blue
A-[G]cross the Eastern counties on Elkhorn Number [D]Two
Ive [G]rode those highball trains from coast to coast that's [C]all
But [C]I have found no [G]equal to the [D]Wabash Cannon-[C]ball.
. . .
Our [G]eastern states are dandy, So the people always [C]say,
From [G]New York to St. Louis, And Chicago by the [D]way,
From the [G]hills of Minnesota, Where the rippling waters [C]fall,
No [C]changes can be [G]taken, On the [D]Wabash Cannon-[G]ball
. . .
Now [G]here's to Boston Blackey,_May his name forever [C]stand,
And [G]always be remembered, By the 'boes throughout the [D]land,
His [G]earthly days are over, And the curtains 'round him [C]fall,
We'll [C]carry him home to [G]victory On the [D]Wabash Cannon-[C]ball
. . .
Oh, [G]here's to daddy Klaxton, may his name forever [C]be
And [G]long be he remembered in the courts of Tennes-[D]see
His [G]earthly race is over now, as the curtains round him [C]fall
He'll be [C]carried back to [G]victory on the [D]Wabash Cannon-[G]ball.
So [G]listen to the jingle, the rumble and the [C]roar
As she [G]glides along the foothills and the pathways to the [D]shore.
Hear the [G]mighty rush of the engines, hear the lonesome hobos [C]call
As they [C]rumble through the [G]jungle on the [D]Wabash Cannon-[G]ball.
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