You sit on the rusted track
With a heavy load on your back
You watch the gray clouds roll in
Where the summer heat has been
You lean your head on the pine
Waiting for a silver line
Listen to the wooden floor
Breathe until the thunder roars
The porch is a weathered brown
Looking at the sleepy town
You hear every creak and groan
Feeling less and less alone
You lean your head on the pine
Waiting for a silver line
Listen to the wooden floor
Breathe until the thunder roars
The rain hits the metal skin
Letting all the cold air in
The porch boards are soaked and wet
A rhythm you won't forget
Oil and salt in the breeze
Wind shaking the willow trees
One is steel and one is wood
Holding fast as best they could
The lantern is swinging low
Watching all the river flow
You wait for the morning light
To end this long lonely night
You lean your head on the pine
Waiting for a silver line
Listen to the wooden floor
Breathe until the thunder roars
The storm settles down to a hum
Knowing that the day has come
You stand where the iron meets clay
Ready for the trains to play
You lean your head on the pine
Waiting for a silver line
Listen to the wooden floor
Breathe until the thunder roars
Just iron and pine.
Stay a little while.
Iron and pine.
