Tender behind

All hitched up, full head of steam.

Water tanks filled, looking a dream

Whistle blows, signal is clear, 

Whoosh of smoke, raising a tear

Driving wheels turn, couplings crack

Time for the journey, to Brighton and back

Across open fields, trees racing past

Under stone bridges, she travels so fast

Stoking the furnace, coals burning red

Adjusting the throttle, onward she sped

Over the hill, journey's end due

Round the bend, the stations in view

Brakes applied, holding steady

Grinds to a halt, buffers ready

Onlookers cheer, she's one of a kind

The Brighton Belle, with the tender behind