I watched the rain; it settled in. We disappeared for days again.
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Most of us were staying in, lazy like the sky.
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The letters flew across the wire filtered through a million liars.
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The whole world smelled like burning tires the day John Henry died.
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We knew about that big machine that ran on human hope and steam.
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Bets on John were far between and mostly on the side.
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We heard he put up quite a fight. His hands and feet turned snowy white.
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That hammer rang out through the night the day John Henry died.
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When John Henry was a little bitty baby nobody ever taught him how to read
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But he knew the perfect way to hold a hammer was the way the railroad baron held the deed.
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It didn't matter if he won, if he lived, or if he'd run.
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They changed the way his job was done. Labor costs were high.
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That new machine was cheap as hell and only John would work as well,
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So they left him laying where he fell the day John Henry died.
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John Henry was a steel-driving bastard but John Henry was a bastard just the same.
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An engine never thinks about his daddy and an engine never needs to write its name.
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So pack your bags, we're headed west and L.A. ain't no place to rest.
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You'll need some sleep to pass the test, so get some on the flight
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And say your prayers John Henry Ford 'cause we don't need your work no more.
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You should have known the final score the day John Henry died.
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The Day John Henry Died
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| Drive-By Truckers |
