Daddy rode the thunder,
Daddy rode the wind,
Daddy drove on the Stann Creek line
and I remember when.
I remember when the shiny rail
was all the road we had
though it was covered up and gone
while I was yet a lad.
From Middlesex to Commerce Bight
down through the orchards green,
the wealth of Stann Creek Valley rolled
to lands we'd never seen.
Seven Sisters were the bridges named
along that narrow track,
and I'd give all that I have
if I could now go back.
But all of that is past and gone,
smooth highway's all we see,
The people on the busses never
think what used to be.
Too few of us recall that time,
Too few of us still care,
Too few of us remember
when the shiny rail was there.
Daddy rode the thunder,
Daddy rode the wind,
Daddy drove on the Stann Creek line
and I remember when.



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