Ghost Train

A tale of a train that never was

Ghost Train
By Scott B. Laughlin

Rumors of a lawyer who,
Called himself a railroad man,
Sweet talkin’ investors, then,
Grabbed the money and ran.

A U.S. Marshal followed his trail,
Chased him here and there,
Caught up to him in K.C.,
Buyin’ a one-way fare.

That attorney is gone now,
So’s the money as well,
Ain’t no tales of what happened,
‘Cus dead men don’t tell.

But one quiet summer’s night,
Down where the old grade lies,
I saw a locomotive light shinin’,
Among the winkin’ fireflies.


Next morning’ we walked that grade,
Me and Jim, my cus’,
Found dirt, but no rails,
A train that never was?

Don’t say it can’t happen,
Not without a single rail,
‘Cus that’s where we found that cow,
Dead’er’n a horseshoe nail.

I’ve quit tellin’ folks,
‘Bout what I seen that night,
There ain’t nobody believes me,
About the train and light.

I still hear her chuggin’,
And see that light plain,
It can’t be nothin’ else,
But that old Ghost Train.