When I'm Playing with My Trains

Ist Modeler:

My dispatcher thinks I'm hiding, I'm switching on a siding,
Don't need to touch the main.
My conductor has the car-cards, I am hours from the y-yards,
Cause I drive the local train.

Drool drips from my muzzle, when I've got a switching puzzle,
It doesn't strain my brain.
My favorite railroad town, has a big ol' runna-r-round
When I drive the local train.

Pick-up three, and set out four
Run around and get two more
Change the cards, from three to four
I near a street, beep beep-beep- how sweet!

Yes the Rix Pick is an a-art, the Kadees come ap-art.
My wrist, it has no strain,
I'm the master of the way-freight, let the passengers a wa-ait,
Cause I drive the local train.


2nd Modeler:

Just look at all my scenery, mountains to the greenery,
I've detailed every part.
Each siding to the l-last, is filled with grimy bal-last
Cause my railroad is my art.

No structure is inferior, each building an interior
From tower to Quik-Mart.
My figures are hand painted, my box cars lightly tainted,
Yes my railroad is my art.

Airbrush here, some pastel there,
A street scene with produce fare.
My switch engine shows a little wear
It's okay, you're free to stare.

I cry out with elation, a beauty scratch-bash station,
I loved it from the start.
My pike's a to-our highlight, a real railfan's de-li-ight
Cause my railroad is my art.


3rd Modeler:

Some people have a snit-fit, when I match up all my rivets,
But I do it when I can.
I know all of the Geep makes, that need dynamic ber-akes,
Cause I'm a detail man.

It makes me want to cr-eye, when the boiler sits too hi-igh
for what the Pennsy ran.
And chunky casted hand-rail, makes me want to wa-ail
Cause I'm a detail man.

Replace the cast, with bended brass,
A decal on the door.
Is that three horns, do I see four?
I'll have to shave it down to fit one more.

And while the glue is drying, I'll concentrate on trying
a lower hooded fan,
Cause if I don't get it right, I'll dream of it a tonight
Cause I'm a detail man.


All three:

When our lives turn dour, we hide away for hours,
Our basement's our refrain.
When life's become a taxing, we are totally relaxing
When we're playing with our trains

We never get a b-ored, when we are ruling lo-ords
Of all of our domains.
If you don't like it my way, then you can hit the highway
Cause we're playing with our trains.

It has to be, our destiny
It's what our lives are for
The power when we close the basement door
No one anywhere can ask for more....

Its...
Details,
My Ops,
My Art,
Our world...

We know what you are thinking, it's better we're not drinking
And showing some restrain.
But our wives would be l-ost, if they found out what it c-ost
When we're playing with our trains

© 2007 Chip Engelmann