On one cloudless morning I stood on the mountain, Just watching the smoke from below, It was coming from a tall, slim smokestack Way down on the So Cal Live Steam railroad.
It was 613, the fastest train Ever ran the Southern Cal line, All the freight trains and passengers take the side for 613, For she's bound to be at stations on time.
They gave him his orders at Wilson Park Station, Saying, "Charlie, you're way behind time. This is not 777, but it's Old 613, You must put her into Crenshaw on time."
He looked 'round and said to his black greasy fireman, "Just shovel in a little more coal, And when I cross that old Red Car Wye, You can just watch Old 613 roll."
It's a mighty rough road from Crenshaw out to Shag Crossing, And the lie was a three-mile grade, It was on that grade that he picked the switch, And you see what a jump that she made.
He was going down the grade making 90 miles an hour, When his whistle began to scream, He was found in that wreck with his hand on his Blackberrry, He was texting to his cousin John.
613, she was the fastest train That the SCLS had ever seen, But she run so fast on that Saturday morning That the MACH was numbered 14.
Now, ladies, you must take warning, From this time now and on. Never speak harsh words to your train lovin nerd. He may leave you and never return.
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