The Last Spike

The Last Spike
Working round the clock
Handcarts moved the drift
Every time they crossed a stream
They built another a bridge
25000 ties and 100000 strikes
More dead than alive
When they drove the last spike
That’s how the West was won
That’s how the West was lost
The barons made the dollars
And the workers paid the cost
They barely heard the warning
Before the blast of dynamite
Then they kept on
laying tracks
Till they drove the last spike
They called it a day
It was the end of a time
That engine dis
appeared Eastward down the line
All that’s left were stories
Of what the land was like
They laid down their heavy hammers
When they drove the last spike
When the task was ended
They went their separate ways
Spokane
or San Francisco
Or back to Boston Bay
An old guitar for comfort
And tobacco in a pipe
Laid off and sent away
When they drove the last spike

©2023 Tim Stafford Thomm Jutz