Chuck Berry

A stranger lying on a bar room floor
Had drank so much he could drink no more,
So he fell asleep with a troubled brain
To dream that he rode on that down bound train.
The engine with blood was sweaty and damp
And brilliantly lit with a brimstone lamp,
And imps for fuel was shovelling bones
While the furnace rang with a thousand groans.
The boiler was filled with lots of beer
The devil himself was the engineer,
The passengers were most a motley crew,
Some were foreigners and others he knew.
Rich men and lost beggars in rags
Handsome young ladies and wicked old hags.
As the train rushed on at a terrible pace
Sulphuric fumes scorched their hands and face,
Wider and wider the country grew