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I'm waiting for the rails to talk,
as we travel the continent,
each country carefully engulfed,
in their own ignorance.
I'm waiting for the rails to talk,
the consistant symphony,
of iron rails meeting iron wheels,
guiding me around Europe.
I'm waiting for the rails to talk,
endlessly floating in self-esteem,
I am dependent on them,
and this they know very well.
I do not sleep tonight,
as the rails restrain from talking,
all the stories they could tell,
would make me quite small.
I'm waiting for the rails to talk,
as we collide in to the world,
mixed with emotions of joy,
I'm waiting for the rails to talk.
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