Roots Music Report

Credits:

Lyrics

“Santa Claus Special” draws its spirit from one of Appalachia’s most beloved traditions—the Santa Train that rolled through the Eastern Kentucky coalfields beginning in 1943.

More than a holiday spectacle, it became a lifeline of hope for families battered by mine closures, wartime scarcity, and the long winters of mountain life.

Rooted deeply in the Scots-Irish ballad tradition that gave birth to Bluegrass, the song blends scripture-tinged imagery, coal-camp memory, and the high-lonesome pulse of Appalachian storytelling.

The Clinchfield line becomes a rolling sanctuary where miners, mothers, and barefoot children witness grace arriving not in a cathedral, but in a plume of coal smoke and snow.

The song honors the generations who turned hardship into faith and community, celebrating how music, charity, and mountain resilience transformed a simple Christmas train into a legend.

In “Santa Claus Special,” the Santa Train becomes a moving Bethlehem—where sorrow meets joy, poverty meets promise, and the old Scots-Irish hymns of the hills still echo through steam, steel, and winter prayer – Marty Falle November 2025

“Santa Claus Special” (Words and Music by Marty Falle)

Verse 1

Through the mist of a Pikeville morning’, where the coal dust kisses snow,
A whistle moans like a mountain prayer, from a hundred years ago.
From ration lines to empty mines, through sorrow and through pain,
Grace still rides the Clinchfield line—they call it the Santa Train.

Verse 2

The miners laid their shovels down, the rails became their pew,
As hymns were hummed through sooted masks where light was breaking through.
No preacher spoke, no choir sang, but every soul was plain—
They felt the hand of God reach out upon the Santa Train.

Bridge:
Hey Hey! Hallelujah! Barefoot children call His name—
Hey Hey! Hallelujah! Filled with joy by the Santa Train!

Verse 3

Through Harlan’s hills and Pound’s dark mines, where the river winds like pain,
The coal smoke met the holy wind, and heaven knew their names.
The red-suit rider tipped his hat, his beard half-laced with rain,
And every heart turned Bethlehem upon the Santa Train.

Verse 4

Old Granny Mae, with Bible worn, stood wrapped in patchwork pride,
She whispered, “Lord, remember us,” as steel wheels roared outside.
Her tears fell fast as tinsel snow, yet none would fall in vain,
For heaven heard her whispered prayer upon the Santa Train.

Final Verse

So, when you hear that whistle cry through darkness or through pain,
Remember those who gave their hearts to lift this mountain chain.
For every gift and song of cheer still bears one sacred name—
Grace still rides the Clinchfield line—they call it the Santa Train.

Hey Hey! Hallelujah! Smoke and steam and angels rain
Hey Hey! Hallelujah! Light the night with the Santa Train!
Hey Hey! Hallelujah! Barefoot children call His name—
Hey Hey! Hallelujah! Filled with joy by the Santa Train!