This is an old love letter about a lover that’s gone, on an all ghost train, ain’t never coming home, never gonna see your smiling face again and again. Ah, well I visit your grave where the violets grow, where a bird named “Robin”, just a-lettin’ it go, perched on a gravestone, singing his song, again and again. Well he’s perched on a gravestone, singing his song, again and again. Why, time goes by and the lover is gone, but you’re chained to the river where your memory’s born. The current is strong and it carries you on…you wanna-oughta drown but you gotta carry on. Darkness falls on another old night, draws you out into the pale moonlight, walk- ing the tracks where the freight train calls again and again. Why you’re walking the tracks where the freight train calls, again and again. Blue…you’re feeling blue, your ghost train’s due, you’re crying too. Why, there he lies dead on the cold, cold floor. Why did he go and die? (What are memories for?). Don’t ask me, Jack, there his family mourns. His lover’s in the corner, there’s another by the door. There’s a boy on the street that’s a-singin’ his tune about a man name “Ned”- died too soon. Bound for the bottom and he reached for the top, he grab an old guitar but he never, never, never…”Never-Never” is a place where the violets grow - pick a few to take, nobody will know. Plant ‘em by the side of the railroad track. Plant ‘em for a lover who ain’t never coming back. Freight trains howl on through the dark with their old lost lovers and their golden spark. They give ‘em life for awhile on the sod and earth, then they take ‘em away and they leave us with the dirt. They take ‘em away and then they leave us with the dirt. Blue…you’re feeling blue, your ghosts train’s due, you’re crying too. “Well I’m calling your name from a place up above, where I don’t send flowers and I don’t send love - maybe below, but I really don’t care - I’m sending a flame, you gotta grab it in the air. Church bells ring and the church bells toll, for the fiery saints, and where they gotta go. They ain’t goin’ to heaven and they ain’t gonna to tell...They’re calling your name, you’d better run like hell! They’re calling your name, so take a sip from the well…I don’t want to scare you and I don’t take bribes - money’s no good, no matter what you buy. It’ll sell your soul, soil your purse…Send for the doctor won’t you send for the nurse, ‘cause here I lie dying on the cold, cold floor, needle in my arm and I don’t know what for. I’ll see you by my grave on an old tombstone – my train’s overdue and I really gotta go. My train’s overdue and I gotta go…”