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I stood on the Atlantic Ocean |
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The wide Pacific shore |
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To the queen of the flowing mountains |
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To the southbell by the door |
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She's long and tall and handsome |
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And loved by one and all |
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She's a modern combination |
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Called the Wabash Cannonball |
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Oh listen to the jingle |
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The rumble and the roar |
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As she glides along the woodlands |
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Through the hills and by the shores |
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Hear the mighty rush of engines |
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Hear the lonsome hobos' call |
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We're travelling through the jungles |
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On the Wabash Cannonball |
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The eastern states are dandies |
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So the western people say |
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From New York to St. Louis |
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And Chicago by the way |
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Through the hills of Minnesota |
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Where the rippling waters fall |
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No chances can be taken |
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On the Wabash Cannonball |
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Oh listen to the jingle |
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The rumble and the roar |
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As she glides along the woodlands |
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Through the hills and by the shores |
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Hear the mighty rush of engines |
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Hear the lonsome hobos' call |
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We're travelling through the jungles |
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On the Wabash Cannonball |
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Here's to Daddy Klaxton |
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May his name forever stand |
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Will he be remembered |
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Through parts of all our land |
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His earthly race is over |
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And the curtain 'round him falls |
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We'll carry him on to victory |
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On the Wabash Cannonball |
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Oh listen to the jingle |
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The rumble and the roar |
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As she glides along the woodlands |
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Through the hills and by the shores |
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Hear the mighty rush of engines |
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Hear the lonsome hobos' call |
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We're travelling through the jungles |
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On the Wabash Cannonball |