The Lonely Train On An Empty Track
It’s a touch from a hand that feels right through flesh
Something that’s always there but can never be seen
A bullet that burns every vein dry
A cold grip on reality that often slips
That rumbling way down the track that hints to a endless coming
Like the ever-present smile of love bathed in the sadness of truth
As if left to its own unbending will, free of judgment or persecution,
Laughing lovers will not hear it
but it comes constant and comes strong
The most foul creatures know the dates of when and where
but they to will never get on
The saddest ones hold their tickets too close to their hearts
and now are deaf and blinded by their own insecurity
Hands can hold just as they can crush
but when they do it’s already past
We all ask the same questions in the same station
We never talk to each other
but only through speech can we get to know of its coming
So I ask you, will you stay with me a while and wait for the train?
