Roll Away

I dreamed I was an old freight train
A hundred cars of prairie grain
Whistle cryin' through the rain
Rolling over the plain
A thousand miles of empty track
Glowing headlight, smoking stack
A red caboose and a clickety-clack
And a load upon my back

Chorus:
And I roll, I roll, I roll, roll away
Roll, roll, roll away, roll away

Past the rushing waterfall
I heard the sound of the raven's call
The sandy shore and the canyon wall
The forest standing tall
Crossed the land in sun and snow
From Labrador to Nanaimo
Sky above and earth below
That's all I used to know

(chorus)

Through the land of the mighty moose
Beneath the wing of the soaring goose
And then they took my red caboose
And they told me I'm no use
The future rolls into the past
The land no longer seems so vast
My wheels no longer spin so fast
My time has come at last

(chorus)

They talk of clocks and saving time
Well I was progress in my prime
But the mountains I'll no longer climb
Say old age is my crime
Telephones and traffic lights
Laser beams and satellites
Keyboards clacking through the night
I'm no match for their might...

(chorus)
Hear my whistle, hear my roar
Hear the cry from shore to shore
Tell your children what it's for
They'll hear that sound no more
Hear my story, heed my tail
Hear my engines cough and fail
Hear my final piercing wail
As they roll me off the rail...

(chorus x 2)

I've told the story too many times now, but I really did think this was a throwaway song until a songwriter friend told me how much he liked it.

I truly liked it too - I just didn't have the confidence yet, to realize a song written in one flurry of scribbling one afternoon in a tree planting camp could be the real deal.

I love the character of this song: a man dreams he's a train, and he is.

I play the song, and I am.

Tunis, Ontario, August 1995.