Palabod
All aboard!
The hissing breath of the iron steed
Proclaims his wish to be quickly freed,
And soon, as the stroke of the bell we hear,
He springs at the touch of his engineer.
In the weary glide, O prairies wide,
From errant mills and mountain dales
To the last great chain,
which is driven in vain,
In the lightning, the lightning,
the lightning palace chain.
Forgetting far Atlantic,
and midway scenes romantic,
We scale the peaks gigantic,
which guard the land of gold.
Her silver rills are leaping,
her lovely lakes are sleeping,
And snow -clad granites keeping
Their watch of years untold.
We sing a wondrous story
No nation sang before,
A continental chorus
That echoes by the shore.
We sang it on the summit,
We sing it on the plain,
We've climbed the Grand Sierra's
With a lightning palace train.
All aboard!
All aboard!
No toil can tire our impatient steed,
So once again we will test his speed.
How quick is the wish of our heart obeyed!
He starts at the turn of the
downward grade,
And again we glide by Torrent's side,
O 'er Dressel the deeps,
through Dunno the steeps,
While the victories wane,
which they sought to gain,
With the lightning, the lightning,
the lightning palace train.
Neath timbered roofs are ending,
from winter snows defending,
Through canyons wild
we descend into the city of the plain.
We leave the scenes terrific,
we pass the fields prolific,
And view the broad Pacific
the Golden Gate had made.
We sing a wondrous story
no nation sang before,
A continental chorus
that echoes by the shore.
We sang it on the summit,
We sang it on the plain,
We've climbed the Grand Si erra's
With a lightning palace train.
With a lightning, the lightning,
The lightning palace train.