- Farewell to your delusions. Cover up your trails and lay your head down in creosote bed. The crossties binding rail-lines, the train wheels crushing stones, let out ...let out this steam from my head. The moon's distorted face in equal spaces shines to us - please look up. My window is still blind, my hands numb.
The thread of life Between the dark and light Like scissors - never-ending railroad
Forgive my lie I wish I could have died I can't discern a dream from real world
- Metal grating - sound of the rails ripping names and faces from remembrance with parallel stripes running down the hills and valleys in the mist of oil evaporation and blurs of gaseous light
Losing touch with the earth it's turning back - please look out - the whistling ghost-train by your window...