There’s a train
but it’s distant, like a dream.

I can hear it roar
and I can feel its steam.

a white light flaming
dimly in the mist.

there’s no reason for
this dream train to exist.

As a lie is the first
victim of the truth

each eye retains its
crystal view of youth

as we break, and blindly
shuffle from the earth

we leave with just as much
as at our birth.

the brakeman, he breaks down
and genuflects.

His blood floods to
the sinews of his sex.

On this train of light and life
and grim desire

the conductor stamps your ticket
with his fire.

you were born the day you died
or so your thought.

though desperately you
struggled to contort

I loved you for your sadness
and your pride.

I loved you for the loss
you knew inside.

was it power that
you wanted over us?

to distort, or somehow
violate our trust?

babies die before they
can draw breath

but I could never cheaply
take the side of death.

You’re a train,
but you’re distant like a dream.

Maybe things aren’t ever
truly what they seem.

I long to forgive you
for your curse

but deep down, I know
you must forgive me first.