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A few years ago now when I was a boy

I remember so vividly well

A still mountain lake rimmed with swamp grass and reeds

And a soft hue when cool darkness fell

Beside the clear water lay steel rails and ties

An old water tower stood by

So I asked my father,  "What is this I see?"

He turned and he said with a smile,

"It's the Kettle Valley Railroad my son

The Kettle Valley Line

From Hope through to Princeton, Penticton past Trail

To the Crow's Nest on out to the plains."

 

From off in the distance so faintly I heard

The wail of an old locie song

Closer and closer it echoed and rang

Through the peace that had lingered so long

 

Then all at once came a bright pencilled beam

That pierced through the still mountain night

That old faithful workhorse of black steel and fire

Came rolling along into sight

 

Chorus

 

A cool drink of water is all that she needs

Then she must be on her way

For there's sixty six people who trust in her well

To take them to lands faraway

 

With a hot burst of steam and a heave and a groan

She ventured on into the night

Her cry of farewell echoed soft through the trees

A memory so dear in my life

 

"It's the Kettle Valley Railroad my son

The Kettle Valley Line

From Hope through to Princeton, Penticton past Trail

To the Crow's Nest on out to the plains."