Lyrics

A coal burner built in Philly, railroad crew said she's a dilly. Large wheel drivers and a head light big and bright An extra wide cowcatcher, no other hog could match her funnel stack that reached up full two stories high. It was engine 99 highballin' down the line, racing 'cross the great wild West. Black smoke rollin' down her back, she's clinging to the track. For fame and glory she was blessed. Desperados had been told on board she had a ton of gold and with their guns drawn came approaching from the rear. The engineer looked back and saw the gand along the track. Eight outlaws jolted him with mortal fear. He shouted to the stoker that head gunman is no joker. We have to get away or we'll be dead. He said shovel all the coal in, get this engine hot and rollin' 'cross that trestlr 'bove the canyon up ahead. And he said a prayer oh LORDY, we must hit well over forty. She hauled mail car, parlors, flatcars, and caboose. Then she screamed the whistle code, brakeman lighten up the load. He hurried to the back and let the freightcars loose. It was eNgine 99 highballin' down the line, racing 'cross the great wild West. Black smoke rollin' down hew back, she's clinging to the track, straining hard to do her best. At full throttle she hit fifty. 'Round the turn it all looked nifty, when a thund'rous roar gave ev'ryone a scare.
The firebox overloaded, the boiler then exploded. Blew the stack six hundred feet up in the air. mShe started loosin' speed but by then there was no need for she left the would-be robbers far behind, On the bluff of the ravine that they had never seen EACH Bandit pulled his horse and changed his mind. It was engine 99 highballin' down the line, racing 'cross the great wild West. Black smoke rollin' down hew back, she's clinging to the track and risking all she met the test. With a steaming final puff, she showed that she was tough as the famous flyer made it into town to a cheering crowd's ovation by folks waiting at the station as the waning golden sun was goin' down. The gang was heartsick with remorse 'bout that cursed iron horse and how they let the big one, damn it, get away. They argued all night long what, the hell, they all did wrong and guzzled moonshine till the break of day. Yes, it may seem kinda ghostly but if you listen very closely where she blew just when the day's about to end you'll hear echoed faintly trailing of hew mournful whistle wailing as she makes it racing swiftly 'round the bend. It was engine 99 highballin' down the line racing 'cross the great wild West. Black smoke rollin' down her back, she's clinging to the track GODspeeding to hew final rest, GODspeeding to her destiny.