A ghost’s outside the train depot—
The one that is a rest’raunt now.
A mangled man in overalls,
Who waves a lantern light about.
He wanders ’cross the railroad tracks,
To save you from the coming train—
The coming train that isn’t there.
A ghost eats at the old saloon—
The one that sits across the road.
A German man who likes not change,
Who thunders through lock’d upper rooms,
A pacing, lonely, restless soul.
The place has burned not once but twice—
Some say the arson is this man.
The two ghosts sit down by the tracks—
The ones that cut the town in two.
They watch as trains go rolling past,
And laugh about the days they saw.
Their homes now creak and chip and groan.
But they haunt not an empty town—
Still others lurk about its streets.