The New River

The railway near,

Chug-chug-chug is what I hear,

Up the steep grade the train goes,

Where it will stop,

No one knows,

The mountains are neat,

Near Pearisburg,

The County seat,

The diesel engine sounds,

Rail travel here,

Knows no bounds,

Looking down from its lofty height,

The river rushes by,

Even the sun shines bright,

Against the river deep,

The flanges scrape the rails,

As time sails,

Don't know what the rail cars haul,

But the train slows to a crawl,

The lights nearby,

Clang loud,

The diesel engine belching smoke,

With a small puff cloud,

Racing through at lightning speed,

People at the cross gates,

Sit in their cars,

And take heed,

As the Norfolk Southern,

Or the CSX rolls through,

After this,

I don't know what we will do,

But enjoy more trains on the New River.