Playing on the railroad is nothing when the trains don’t run
I chased a shadow of a man in the incandescent, lamplight rain
But as it turns out, it wasn’t anything at all
I found a ghost of a great engine on rusty-red tracks
I cried wrought-iron tears for, in spite of its long years
This once proud machine had been reduced to old scraps
I took a walk out to Nowhereland
Held the world ever so briefly in the palm of my hand
But it slipped through my fingers just last week
In a lucid dream I saw your fleeting face
Reached out with wanting arms; thought you could be my saving grace
I’ve felt the lightning strike me with its quick, hot flash
I’ve felt hot foot thunderclaps shake me to insanity
I’ve wandered through deep, dark woods at night
No torch or friendly soul to be my guiding light
It was in a field I saw him; the downpour ran red with blood falling from his crimson, cut-throat scars
I met his piercing gaze; and I felt the pain of his tumbling, tortured, falling stars
His legs were spread shoulder wide; mangled fists at the ready, on guard
He took a step towards me; embers of hate dancing, alive off blazing wings of fire
I braced my trembling body; barely ready to fight my own wildest desires
One step became another; he charged across the plain
And with each stride full of harmful intent we rode upon the rain
I left him there imprisoned, in his shallow, sorry grave
Where the maggots danced with his bones in some strange, perverted rave
Moving ever, ever on, I found a spirit’s lost cause
I bandaged up his wounds; healed his broken heart
He brought me to a forgotten library; blew out the candle and left me in the dark
And in between strands of silken light I ventured into the history and forgot the present, unexplored
I delved into that once bright building; it had stories from two wars; now empty, its dusty halls ignored
I came upon a fire; different from the rest, this was a fire whose whispered smoke trails had words
The fire danced and crackled; its flames chirped like exotic birds
A gray man tended it; his face, wizened with age
I asked him his business and it turned out that the bookshelves were his cage
But he only barked at me and this is what he said:
“Dreams are dreams and nothing more and, boy, if you believe that then you might as well be dead”
And at his parting words I was so perplexed that I turned and walked away
So I looked to wander; with new musings to replace the old
Out past stacks of printed newspaper; no longer read; now used only to stay the cold
I walked out to meet the day; but the moon met me instead
And with its celestial blessing I ran out into the rain
I glanced out to the busy road; bustling, despite the bitter December chill
Saw the sun sink low; way past the rain clouds, it laughed
Enthralled by the sunset come to meet the sky while the evening kissed the hill
I knew at once where I must away; back to that moment where I was with her; for there, time stood still
Back upon the railroad I caught a train of old
Found myself betting on cards with two dark and twisted men; each vying for life’s nostalgic gold
And in a burst of clarity; I knew it all right then
I had rolled the die of plenty; I had thrown the die of need
In a coffin-ship full of frightened sailors I had won against the odds
I had gambled with solemn saints; had cheered with smiling sinners
Waited my turn with the helpless souls in purgatory and debated with the gods
I won a silver crucifix; heard the metal sing to my heart
I’ve opened my eyes and exhaled teardrop sighs; learned a lost and dying art
But the platinum torrent screamed on the windows; as it did when I awoke
I sat bolt upright in giddy rapture and listened while He spoke
But something drowned out his words; I couldn’t hear a thing
I was caught betwixt an impassioned hymn and a dream’s siren-song din
Or maybe it was the smokestack’s screech; birthed by my own speeding train
No, I’m sure it was the howling of my lovesick pen as I wrote of nightmares in the rain
I chased a shadow of a man in the incandescent, lamplight rain
But as it turns out, it wasn’t anything at all
I found a ghost of a great engine on rusty-red tracks
I cried wrought-iron tears for, in spite of its long years
This once proud machine had been reduced to old scraps
I took a walk out to Nowhereland
Held the world ever so briefly in the palm of my hand
But it slipped through my fingers just last week
In a lucid dream I saw your fleeting face
Reached out with wanting arms; thought you could be my saving grace
I’ve felt the lightning strike me with its quick, hot flash
I’ve felt hot foot thunderclaps shake me to insanity
I’ve wandered through deep, dark woods at night
No torch or friendly soul to be my guiding light
It was in a field I saw him; the downpour ran red with blood falling from his crimson, cut-throat scars
I met his piercing gaze; and I felt the pain of his tumbling, tortured, falling stars
His legs were spread shoulder wide; mangled fists at the ready, on guard
He took a step towards me; embers of hate dancing, alive off blazing wings of fire
I braced my trembling body; barely ready to fight my own wildest desires
One step became another; he charged across the plain
And with each stride full of harmful intent we rode upon the rain
I left him there imprisoned, in his shallow, sorry grave
Where the maggots danced with his bones in some strange, perverted rave
Moving ever, ever on, I found a spirit’s lost cause
I bandaged up his wounds; healed his broken heart
He brought me to a forgotten library; blew out the candle and left me in the dark
And in between strands of silken light I ventured into the history and forgot the present, unexplored
I delved into that once bright building; it had stories from two wars; now empty, its dusty halls ignored
I came upon a fire; different from the rest, this was a fire whose whispered smoke trails had words
The fire danced and crackled; its flames chirped like exotic birds
A gray man tended it; his face, wizened with age
I asked him his business and it turned out that the bookshelves were his cage
But he only barked at me and this is what he said:
“Dreams are dreams and nothing more and, boy, if you believe that then you might as well be dead”
And at his parting words I was so perplexed that I turned and walked away
So I looked to wander; with new musings to replace the old
Out past stacks of printed newspaper; no longer read; now used only to stay the cold
I walked out to meet the day; but the moon met me instead
And with its celestial blessing I ran out into the rain
I glanced out to the busy road; bustling, despite the bitter December chill
Saw the sun sink low; way past the rain clouds, it laughed
Enthralled by the sunset come to meet the sky while the evening kissed the hill
I knew at once where I must away; back to that moment where I was with her; for there, time stood still
Back upon the railroad I caught a train of old
Found myself betting on cards with two dark and twisted men; each vying for life’s nostalgic gold
And in a burst of clarity; I knew it all right then
I had rolled the die of plenty; I had thrown the die of need
In a coffin-ship full of frightened sailors I had won against the odds
I had gambled with solemn saints; had cheered with smiling sinners
Waited my turn with the helpless souls in purgatory and debated with the gods
I won a silver crucifix; heard the metal sing to my heart
I’ve opened my eyes and exhaled teardrop sighs; learned a lost and dying art
But the platinum torrent screamed on the windows; as it did when I awoke
I sat bolt upright in giddy rapture and listened while He spoke
But something drowned out his words; I couldn’t hear a thing
I was caught betwixt an impassioned hymn and a dream’s siren-song din
Or maybe it was the smokestack’s screech; birthed by my own speeding train
No, I’m sure it was the howling of my lovesick pen as I wrote of nightmares in the rain
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