The Whistle Of a Train in Cincinnati
By: Lazar LazinskyWhen I was just a little boy, I had a trip and did enjoy, We bought the tickets on the train, I saw my country through the pane. It was the best of times and dreams, The train sped past quick rushing steams, The whistle sounded like a song, Which moved us happily along. I had a smile upon my face, Because we were in this great race, My mother, brother and my friends... All passed along their own legends... Now I hear the whistle again And I wake up and look for a train, I recall my childhood at this time And again I'm so young and fine.