The Pacific

Me and Frankie Taylor, two young’un’s full of dreams

Pacific steamer headed south on the path of the New Orleans

18 years behind us with a lifetime still ahead

On a bad stretch of the river, gettin’ good at cheatin’ death

The Ohio is mighty, she’s ruthless and so strong

And underneath her waters lay a many a rouster’s bones

To make it past Kentucky would sure put a mind at rest

And to see another sunrise, you’d consider yourself blessed

Our first stop was a baker mine to drop a load of beans

I traded for a ton of coal to feed our steam machine

The stage is up and loaded down, we headed out again

Never thought it’d be the last time we’d ever see dry land

Union town was fading fast in the pale light of the moon

When hell broke loose and opened up its gates in the boiler room

Laying claim to everything, not a single life was spared

I heard Frankie Taylor cry out, as he drew his last breath there

Some never see tomorrow, some make it back to dock

Ain’t nothing left but a sunken hull on a point called Highland Rock

Sleeping beneath the water, but she don’t sleep alone

The Pacific’s in the boneyard, and the river rages on