Train

Train, train, train, Oh train,

You who lets out your flowing mane,

You with your long, dark tail,

And your elegant gold leaf covered rail,

Your age and wisdom sleeps in the walls,

Magic whispers through your halls,

Let down your beard, long and white,

As you travel, travel, through mountains, through the night,

Your bespectacled face must see the countryside once more,

Of clouded glass and windowless doors,

Of tarnished metal and brittle grass,

The Country in which were laid your tracks,

Your starry ceiling bows and gives,

When the first snows fall upon your lid,

The red crushed velvet seats irradiate your soul,

The wood planked floors are your patrol,

Your mood is of the morning air,

Of dandelion fluff and wispy hair,

Of mountaintops and moist, damp clouds,

The way in which you trudge around,

You are a burning light,

You travel on through the night,

You, train, Oh train,

Stare out at me through your windowpane