Lyrics:

The railroads, and the riverboats, that bred the mighty manThat we read about, and we dream aboutThe men who built this landAnd the farmers and the lumbermen and the men who worked the millsAnd the poor hard working minersWho died inside the hillsWhile the rivers that flowAre the blood of our landAnd the trucks they keep rumblingOn the great concrete bandAnd the railroads keep pushingTo be all they once wereAnd nature is callingNo one's listening to herAnd the immigrants, by the boat load, in a dozen different tonesSang of freedom, in the new landClimbed the ladder rung by rungSome to Boston, some to Pittsburg, Philidelphia and St. PaulAnd the old ways, led to new daysThey were welcome one and all.While the rivers that flowAre the blood of our landAnd the trucks they keep rumblingOn the great concrete bandAnd the railroads keep pushingTo be all they once wereAnd nature is callingNo one's listening to herWith the railroads, and the riverboats, and the bread lines far behindAnd the days we sang togetherLong gone but still in mindAnd the men who, came before us, men who brought us to todayAnd the story, still unravels, from the dreams of yesterdayWhile the rivers that flowAre the blood of our landAnd the trucks they keep rumblingOn the great concrete bandAnd the railroads keep pushingTo be all they once wereAnd nature is callingNo one's listening to herAnd nature is calling,No one's listening to her