Hundred-car-long oil trains brimming with Bakken crude highball across Montana’s Hi-Line every day, Puget Sound bound. They pass through Whitefish, where my friends suck in their breath and hope nothing goes wrong. This song is for them.
Down by Whitefish Station,
Early in the morning
See the Bakken oil train,
Thunder down the track,
One hundred cars of crude oil,
Fracked from Dakota deep soil,
Bang, bang, big flame,
If it jumps the track.
Down by Whitefish Station,
Midway through the gloaming,
Comes another oil train,
Barreling down the track,
Says the station master,
“This could be disaster,”
Bang, bang, big flame,
If it jumps the track.
Down by Whitefish Station,
Shortly after midnight,
Comes another oil train,
A headlight in the black,
Be prepared to hightail,
If it begins to derail,
Bang, bang, big flame,
If it jumps the track.