A poster hawked the plains
Now I am swinging sledge with joy
And helping bring the trains.
The rails would bend a giant's back
The wind would sting his eyes
But oh the freedom, fresh and strong
In seeing each sunrise
The meal is hot, the camp is loud
And steam calls us to slave
As everyman finds partnership
Among the rough and brave.
We hear of farms we must break through
And Injuns painted red
And force of land and force of hate
Leave many of us dead.
We wouldn't have it otherwise
We're carving out a life
And cash comes hard, but come it does
Some day a home and wife.
A ribbon in our minds we see
That makes it to the West
Pray God have mercy on our souls
For ills come with the test.