The light at the end of the tunnel may just be an oncoming train. Jump on, and see where it takes you. 

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Beware the hand that feeds, nothing more than a vessel without feats.
I'm strolling up and down, engraving the city with a frown and some beats.
I'm making my way home, following the sun, questioning even the heat,
But I don't have the answers, so I'll keep walking with my back to the streets.