Hammer heavy in one hand, rail spikes in the other

The clash of metal rings;

Swinging all day and swinging all night

Working for the American kings.

The sweat on my brow is the congrats I get

For working each day and night

But 50 acres per man who works the line

Is reason enough, alright

Driving steel into wood and wood into ground

I swing my hammer fast

Big John Henry would be green with envy

At the sound of my hammer blast

The old rails ain’t all that great

Sometimes I miss my home

I miss Sunday church and all my friends

And hair styled with my comb.

But the nights are beautiful and I love the smells

Of fire, oak, and pine;

As the sun sets, if you look real close

You can see the railroad shine.

The sky lights up with the yawn of the sun

And we eat some bacon and beans

Then it’s off to the rails, big hammers in hand

To be not men, but machines.

Each swing of the hammer and clang of the steel

Rings like a cathedral bell

I wonder how long I can work this way

When even John Henry fell.

Hammer’s heavy in one hand, steel spikes in the other

Broken men groaning aloud

Our spirits are down, but our salvation is here

Down by those gathering clouds.

My arm can’t swing that great big hammer

But it don’t matter any more

Because that summer rain’s a-finally fallin’

And I’ll find rest in the great downpour.