Track Insight / Lyrics
Old wood creaks on a painted porch,
Holding tight to a rusted torch.
Steel rails stretch to a silver line,
Crossing over a weathered pine.
Iron grey fog hides the heavy track,
Taking the light and it won't come back.
Swaying slow in a wooden seat,
Where the ghosts and the engine meet.
Cold wind bites through a denim sleeve,
Watching trains that will never leave.
Clicking sounds in a distant yard,
Keeping watch like a lonely guard.
Iron grey fog hides the heavy track,
Taking the light and it won't come back.
Swaying slow in a wooden seat,
Where the ghosts and the engine meet.
Flash a bulb on a plastic frame,
Giving every dead station a name.
Sooty breath on a frozen pane,
Counting beats of a steady rain.
Iron grey fog hides the heavy track,
Taking the light and it won't come back.
Swaying slow in a wooden seat,
Where the ghosts and the engine meet.
Copper wire in a tangled heap,
While the sleeping rail workers sleep.
One last turn of a heavy gear,
Bringing all of the distance near.
Iron grey fog hides the heavy track,
Taking the light and it won't come back.
Swaying slow in a wooden seat,
Where the ghosts and the engine meet.
Swaying slow, swaying deep.
While the iron engines sleep.
