I remember as a boy how in wonderment and joy I'd watch the trains as they'd go byAnd the whistles' lonesome sound you could hear for miles aroundAs they rolled across that Greenville trestle highBut the whistles don't sound like they used toLately not many trains go byHard times across the land mean no work for a railroad manAnd the Greenville trestle not all seems to hideOn the riverbank I'd stand with a cane pole in my handAnd watch the freight trains up against the skyWith the black smoke trailing back as they moved along the trackThat runs across that Greenville trestle highBut the whistles don't sound like they used toLately not many trains go byHard times across this land mean no work for a railroad manAnd the Greenville trestle now don't seem so highWhen the lonesome whistles whined I'd get ramblin' on my mindLord I wish they still sounded that wayAs I turned to head for home Lord she'd rumble low and longToward the sunset at the close of dayBut the whistles don't sound like they used toLately not many trains go byHard times across this land mean no work for a railroad manAnd the Greenville trestle now don't seem so highNo the Greenville trestle now don't seem so high