the railroad clatters like a rattlebox of mine going to the place where everyone's waiting for me with their lovely smile except the day with dozing off, i always gaze out the window try to spin my thoughts, moving like smoke, into the crystals
clattering along the rail staring at the curved trees and the sleeping birds on the cables the gossips on the NY post people chatting on the phone making a music tickling my ear
when the train floats into the sky it is going across the bridge to the city when the train floats into the sky going across the bridge going back to the city i live in but i don't know whether i like or not
i'm home, i'm home i'm thinking i'd better to stay for a couple more days i'm home although you're not here anymore
the railroad clatters like a rattlebox of mine reaching at my station where everyone's struggling with their smile
