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The railroads and the riverboats that bred the mighty man
That we read about and we dream about, the men who built this land
And the farmers and the lumbermen and the men who worked the mills
And the poor hard working miners who died inside the hills

While the rivers that flow are the blood of our land
And the trucks they keep rumbling on the great concrete band
And the railroads keep pushing to be all they once were
And nature is calling, no one's listening to her

And the immigrants by the boat load in a dozen different tones
Sang of freedom in the new land, climbed the ladder rung by rung
Some to Boston, some to Pittsburgh, Philadelphia and St. Paul
And the old ways led to new days, they were welcome one and all

While the rivers that flow are the blood of our land
And the trucks they keep rumbling on the great concrete band
And the railroads keep pushing to be all they once were
And nature is calling, no one's listening to her

With the railroads and the riverboats and the bread lines far behind
And the days we sang together, long gone but still in mind
And the men who came before us, men who brought us to today
And the story still unravels from the dreams of yesterday

While the rivers that flow are the blood of our land
And the trucks they keep rumbling on the great concrete band
And the railroads keep pushing to be all they once were
And nature is calling, no one's listening to her
And nature is calling, no one's listening to her

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