Track Insight / Lyrics
Dust motes dance in the fading grey,
Another dawn breaks, slips away.
Leather scent and a rhythmic beat,
Lost in the fog, weary feet.
The rail yard breathes a metal sigh,
Empty boxcars roll slowly by.
Buffing this hide, a worn brown shoe,
Searching for a memory, honest and true.
These rail yard ghosts, they whisper low,
Of journeys taken, long ago.
Each scuff and stain, a story told,
Lost in the steam, growing cold.
The fog hangs thick, a silent shroud,
Swallowing the sounds of the passing crowd.
I run my thumb across the grain,
A quiet solace, easing the pain.
These rail yard ghosts, they whisper low,
Of journeys taken, long ago.
Each scuff and stain, a story told,
Lost in the steam, growing cold.
A whistle blows, a distant call,
Echoes of departures, standing tall.
I see a face in the passing light,
A fleeting vision, lost to the night.
These rail yard ghosts, they whisper low,
Of journeys taken, long ago.
Each scuff and stain, a story told,
Lost in the steam, growing cold.
The leather sighs beneath my hand,
A fragile link to a promised land.
Each careful stroke, a hopeful plea,
To mend the broken parts of me.
These ghosts remain, I understand,
A piece of time held in my hand.
The sun breaks through, a golden hue,
Revealing the rails, fresh with dew.
I finish the work, a gentle grace,
Finding a peace in this lonely place.
These rail yard ghosts, they whisper low,
Of journeys taken, long ago.
Each scuff and stain, a story told,
Lost in the steam, growing cold.
These rail yard ghosts, they linger on,
Until the last light is gone.
Leather and fog, a fading dream,
A silent whisper, it would seem.
Dust motes fall, and shadows creep,
Lost in the yards, fast asleep.
---
