There is a lonely train called the 3.10 to Yuma
That is the only train left for me to ride on
I'll ride your lonely train called the 3.10 to Yuma
I'll hand my ticket-in on my last time

They say the life of man is made in four seasons
The springtime finds him young and planting his grain
But then the summer comes bringing warm rain of reason
It's time to reap his crop of heartache and pain

And then the leaves turn brown and dusk clouds are open
And all I'm wearin' is a crown of crimson and gold
But down in Yuma town where the summer is always
Here down in Yuma town a man can grow old

And then the winter comes, finds him snow-cropped and laden
He's been a-humbled now, walking into the rain
But there's a lonely train called the 3.10 to Yuma
I'll hand my ticket-in on my last train