430 S. Chicago Ave., Bolivar, Mo.
The quaint little depot stand there
It’s memory shall ever remain
When smoke rising up from over the
Announces the approaching train.
The station master with impressive
Picks up the worn mail sack
And stands erect, a likeable chap
As the train comes down the track.
Friends press in to say good by
Others to say hello.
These are memories that you and I
Retain from the long ago.
Nostalgic though our thoughts may be
And near are hidden tears
‘Tis better far for you and me
To advance with the passing years.
But when we reach the promised land
That is free from every sin
Wouldn’t it be a sight so grand
To see some trains steam in?