Standing on a sidetrack at the south end of town On a hot, dry, dusty August day the steam pipe blowin' down The fireman with that long oil can oiling the old valve gears Waiting for the fast mail train semaphore to clear The engineer in the old high cab, his gold watch in his hand Looking at the water glass and letting down the sand Rolling out on the old main line taking up the slack Gone today but so they say tomorrow he'll be back Oh, if I could return to those boyhood days of mine And the green light on the Southern Southern railroad line Creepin' down the rusty rails of the weed grown branch line The section houses gray and white by the yard limit sign The hoggers call the old high ball, it's no more time to wait Just rolling down to Birmingham with a ten car local freight The whistle scream with a hiss of steam, the headlight gleams clear The drivers roll on the green and go getting mighty near Handing up the orders to the engine crew on time It's the Alabama Great Southern AGS railroad line Oh, if I could return to those boyhood days of mine And that green light on the Southern Southern railroad line