Long years ago more than I care to own
I was at work in my cabin alone
Grasping the lever with faultering (sic) breath
Holding a balance, between life and death,
Working long hours, for pitiful pay,
Thinking of one who is not far away,
My little darling I'm longing to see
She is laid in sickness and waiting for me.

Chorus:     As the old clock on the was ticking that hangs upon the wall,
                     The worn out old signal-man, was sleeping through it all,
                     Angels eyes are watching him, although they give no sign,
                     In the old wooden cabin, by the railway line.

Hark ! at the wind through the chink of the door
Yells like a demon o're (sic) the hills o're the moor,
Over the handles his eyes fails to roam,
Forgetting his duty, and thinking of home.
Hark at the warning the whistles repeat,
Soon at the crossing the two trains will meet,
In his integrety (sic) , stands there to boast,
Still the old Signal-man, sleeps at his post

Nearer yet nearer, the drivers rushed on
Watching the signal the lines rests upon
Should he not waken no power can save,
Hundreds of lives, from the brink of the grave.
Up to the lever he jumped fierce and wild
Called by a voice of his own darling child,
Angels had wafted that voice in his ear,
Soon in the distance the trains disappeared.



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