Lyricist: Bob Dylan
Well, I ride on the mail train, babe, can't buy a thrill
Well, I've been up all night leanin' on the windowsill
Well, if I die on top of the hill
And if I don't make it, you know my baby will
Don't the moon look good, mama, shinin' through the trees?
Don't the brakeman look good, mama, flagging down the Double E's?
Don't the sun look good goin' down over the sea?
But don't my gal look fine when she's comin' after me?
Now the wintertime is coming, the windows are filled with frost
I went to tell everybody, but I could not get across
Well, I wanna be your lover, baby, I don't wanna be your boss
Don't say I never warned you when your train gets lost
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