Trains
The narrative
Trains on train tracks are made to come back
From every place that they?ve ever been
Seven-thirty sunday of the week
I knew she?d leave me but not like this
From every place that they?ve ever been
Seven-thirty sunday of the week
I knew she?d leave me but not like this
You know you?re the reason that I felt alive out here
So alone I?ve waiting for my chance to disappear
The wooden sleepers, the girders lie still
Are cold reminders of what you had to do
We?re not like train tracks
(We?re not like train tracks)
Sometimes we have to move
(Sometimes we have to move)
And never come back
(And never come back)
Despite the things we lose
You know you?re the reason I felt alive out here
So alone I?ve waiting for my chance to disappear
This town is just a strip of bars and streets with common names
It?s strange to know you?ll watch me as I slowly move away
Trains on train tracks are made to come back
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