Sam had a nice profession
Well it was really more an obsession
He didn't have a single possession
Just affection for a steam machine
Its simply Green
Her name is Glory

The village folks they often wonder
Where Glory gets her fire and thunder
Magic things Sam must conjure
Museum on the Rails
A legend of Old Tales
Glory

("Everybody on the train")

They climb aboard, wipe their feet
Would you kindly take your seats
Sam pulls a cord
And a whistle is absorbed
Sam calls to ev'ryone
Let's have fun, this could be our last run
He didn't know how right he was
A shock for him was in the post, now

A letter headed Railway Company
Found its way to his house on Monday
Read your route is uneconomical
Very sorry, we got to be logical
And when the month ends
Glory is redundant

Then a strange sound in the night
Made the people wake with fright
A Green Machine with a yellow light
With Sam on top, steams out of sight
Leaving behind puzzled minds

Dear old Sam we miss you so
We wish you would come back
All we want for Christmas
Is old Sam in Santa's sack

Dear old Sam we miss you so
We wish you would come back
All we want for Christmas
Is old Sam in Santa's sack

Dear old Sam we miss you so
We wish you would come back
All we want for Christmas
Is old Sam in Santa's sack

Ah, ah, ah, ah
.....

