The Train Races

The train races; the smoke rises
The train races; the whistle blows
The train races; the smoke rises
The train races; it calls out to me
Where it is leading, I do not know,
Perhaps into the stars,
Burning forever bright.
Perhaps under the ocean,
Deep as the color of your eyes.
Does it follow a trail of broken hearts?
Or maybe puddles of fallen tears?
The train races
The smoke rises
The whistle blows
And it calls to me
But I turn my back on it.
I’m following your path of footprints.
Where it is leading, I do not know.
But maybe one day I’ll catch up.
And we’ll be together again.