It should be a while before I see Dr Death,
So it would sure be nice if I could get my breath.
Well, I'm not the cryin' nor the whinin' kind,
Till I hear the whistle of the 309.

Of the 309,
Of the 309.
Put me in my box on the 309.

Take me to the depot, put me to bed.
Blow an electric fan on my gnarly old head.
Everybody take a look; see I'm doin' fine,
Then load my box on the 309.

On the 309,
On the 309.
Put me in my box on the 309.

Instrumental Break.

Hey, sweet baby, kiss me hard:
Draw my bath water, sweep my yard.
Give a drink of my wine to my Jersey cow.
I wouldn't give a hoot in hell for my journey now.

On the 309,
On the 309.

I hear the sound of a railroad train:
The whistle blows an' I'm gone again.
It will take me higher than a Georgia Pine.
Stand back children, it's a 309.

It's a 309,
It's a 309.
Put me in my box on the 309.

Instrumental Break.

A chicken in the pot an' turkey in the corn.
Ain't felt this good since jubilee morn.
Talk about luck, well I got mine:
Asthma comin' down like the 309.
Ah hah.

Write me a letter, sing me a song:
Tell me all about it, what I did wrong.
Meanwhile I will be doin' fine.
Then load my box on the 309.

On the 309,
On the 309.
Gonna get outta here on the 309.

Instrumental Close.