Out in the Derail Valley, beneath the starry skies,
I’d hear the whistle blow, like a sweet lullaby.
Riding on a flatcar, feeling that old train sway,
The smell of coal and steam, took my cares away.
Oh, the whistle of the Wild West, it calls me home,
Through the valleys and the mountains, I’ll never roam alone.
With a heart full of pride, and dreams so wide,
In the arms of the narrow gauge, my spirit rides.
We’ve rebuilt those steam ages, with grit and hope in sight,
A shunter in the yard, working hard day and night.
I remember loading tankers, filling ‘em up right,
With sunsets painting gold on steel, that felt so bright.
Oh, the whistle of the Wild West, it calls me home,
Through the valleys and the mountains, I’ll never roam alone.
With a heart full of pride, and dreams so wide,
In the arms of the narrow gauge, my spirit rides.
Riding in a boxcar, the wind would kiss my face,
The taste of old-time freedom, nothing could replace.
The sounds of air brakes hissing, the regulator’s tune,
Reverser turned to memories, beneath the silver moon.
Oh, the whistle of the Wild West, it calls me home,
Through the valleys and the mountains, I’ll never roam alone.
With a heart full of pride, and dreams so wide,
In the arms of the narrow gauge, my spirit rides.
And those gondolas and dumpcars, they’ve seen their share of scars,
But every mile we traveled, we’d chase down our own stars.
Old mainliners rolling through, they teach us not to fear,
With every chug and puff, I hold my memories near.
Oh, the whistle of the Wild West, it calls me home,
Through the valleys and the mountains, I’ll never roam alone.
With a heart full of pride, and dreams so wide,
In the arms of the narrow gauge, my spirit rides.
So here’s to the steam train, and the journeys we’ve made,
Through the heart of the Wild West, where our legends won’t fade.
With a whistle in the distance, I’ll carry on the quest,
For the beauty of the railroads, and the Whistle of the West.