Autoscroll
1 Column 
Text size
Transpose 0
I Cwatched the rain; it sGettled in. We Fadd9disappeared for dAm7ays again. CMost of us were sGtaying in, lFadd9azy like the Csky. CThe letters flew aGcross the wire Fadd9filtered through a miAm7llion liars. The Cwhole world smelled like Gburning tires the Fadd9day John Henry Cdied.
We knew about that big machine that ran on human hope and steam. Bets on John were far between and mostly on the side. We heard he put up quite a fight. His hands and feet turned snowy white. That hammer rang out through the night the day John Henry died.
When John HAm7enry was a lFadd9ittle bitty bCaby G nobAm7ody ever Fadd9taught him how to rCead G but he Am7knew the perfect Fadd9way to hold a haCmmer G was the Fadd9way the railroad baron held the dDmeed.
It didn't matter if he won, if he lived, or if he'd run. They changed the way his job was done. Labor costs were high. That new machine was cheap as hell and only John would work as well, so they left him laying where he fell the day John Henry died. John Henry was a steel-driving bastard but John Henry was a bastard just the same. An engine never thinks about his daddy and an engine never needs to write its name. So pack your bags, we're headed west and L.A. ain't no place to rest. You'll need some sleep to pass the test, so get some on the flight and say your prayers John Henry Ford 'cause we don't need your work no more. You should have known the final score the day John Henry died.