I'm running on a line,
that'll never end.
the 9:45 hasn't never come in,
this ride hasn't turned out,
just how I wanted it to be
(Hear the whistle blowin')

I want a brand new door,
and a shiny new grill,
and a load of coal bigger than a baseball field,
and a king sized caboose,
big enough for all to see,
(big enough to see)

I need a steam engine,
that's got no limit,
and a service car,
with a bedroom in it.
strong enough to pull,
a line two thousand feet.
( ohhhh,man)

I'm carrying freight full of old guitars,
pulled a hooker from a hometown bar,
somewhere between carolina
and mozambique
(a boogidy boogidy)

I'm gonna trade this life,
and turn into a plane,
I'm tired of running
as a damn old train

And I don't wanna be a big boxcar,
hauling tons of freight for a ruthless czar,
We all stay running,
and the tracks have heat,
we live in trainyards that have no chic'
and we
hang out in a nasty barn,
and rust on out in a big old farm,
we help the gold diggers ,
find their share,
and hauled poison, bleach, and pears,

hey hey
I hate a boxcar
hey hey
i hate a boxcar

I onced hauled Elvis without a hassel,
had ran over people who were real assholes,
run a couple of loads,
then get a wash for free.
(oh that feels good)

I'm gonna haul a load,
with the greatest fashion,
hauled in some parts for the Playboy Mansion,
and the centerfolds,
that went into Times and Green Peace.
(what the hell?)

I'm gonna trade my wheels,
for wings on a plane,
I'm gonna fly people,
of all terrains

And I don't wanna be a big boxcar,
hauling tons of freight for a ruthless czar,
We all stay running,
and the tracks have heat,
we live in trainyards that have no chic'
and we
hang out in a nasty barn,
and rust on out in a big old farm,
we help the gold diggers ,
find their share,
and hauled poison, bleach, and pears,
and I'll
hit cars that'll
cross my boon,
with the latest newspaper,
showing that I didn't
break too soon
they'll tell anything,
with an evil smile,
Everyone'll say it
was a drug dealer driving
all wild
Hey, Hey I don't wanna be a boxcar

I have words on my side,
that needs to be censored,
Gonna pop my wheels,
from my break suspension,
Get old ass cars to pull along,
some'll say this is a stupid song,

And I don't wanna be a big boxcar,
hauling tons of freight for a ruthless czar,
We all stay running,
and the tracks have heat,
we live in trainyards that have no chic'
and we
hang out in a nasty barn,
and rust on out in a big old farm,
we help the gold diggers ,
find their share,
and hauled poison, bleach, and pears,
and I'll
hit cars that'll
cross my boon,
with the latest newspaper,
showing that I didn't
break too soon
they'll tell anything,
with an evil smile,
Everyone'll say it
was a drug dealer driving
all wild
Hey, Hey I don't wanna be a boxcar

Hey, Hey don't wanna be a boxcar

Hey, Hey don't wanna be a boxcar