In the Siskiyou Mountains the old railroad winds
Through the golds of the maples and the green of the pines
Up to Tunnel 13 the Southern she climbs
And three bandits waiting with evil in mind
The D’Autremont brothers had chosen their road
Chosen to live by a criminal code
Word was the mailcar was loaded with gold
The brothers had heard it, or had maybe been told
They wanted no witnesses, that was a fact
The brothers were bent on a barbarous act
Gold there was none, only sadness and tears
And the law coming after them year after year
Three bandits, hearts filled with resentment and hate
Killed mail clerk Elvyn Daugherty, engineer Sydney Bates
With shotgun and pistols they were panicking when
They killed brakeman Coyle Johnson and fireman Marvin Seng
Robbing and looting is as old as the hills
They’re still jumping freight trains with crowbars and drills
A hundred years later in Downtown LA
They rob the Union Pacific damn near every day
Four good men lay murdered in the dogwoods and pines
Leaving widows and children and heartbreak behind
Tunnel 13 is the place in the song
Where the beautiful redwood for my guitar came from
