The railway is a silver line
piercing through the gloom
of this lonely place.
The night train’s slowly sliding by
shining in the moon
lighting up my face
and it makes such a lonesome sound.

The full moon is a cruel friend
beaming cold and bright on the railroad track.
The night train echoes back again
ghostly in the night,
never coming back;
and it makes such a lonesome sound.

The north wind blows into my soul
filling up the void that the night train made.
The night train is a memory
that I can’t avoid as I make my way
and it makes such a lonesome sound,
such a lonesome sound,
such a lonesome sound.

All that I know
Of a certain star,
Is, it can throw
(Like the angled spar)
Now a dart of red,
Now a dart of blue,
Till my friends have said
They would fain see, too,
My star that dartles the red and the blue!
Then it stops like a bird,—like a flower, hangs furled,
They must solace themselves with the Saturn above it.
What matter to me if their star is a world?
Mine has opened its soul to me; therefore I love it.

Don't send me home crying
Tears in my eyes, wet face
Feeling lost on the long drive back
I would rather leave angry
With half moons dug into my palms
A plan forms to pull it all back together
I can handle rage

For W. P.

The little park was filled with peace,
The walks were carpeted with snow,
But every iron gate was locked.
Lest if we entered, peace would go.

We circled it a dozen times,
The wind was blowing from the sea,
I only felt your restless eyes
Whose love was like a cloak for me.

Oh heavy gates that fate has locked
To bar the joy we may not win,
Peace would go out forevermore
If we should dare to enter in.

I heard the fear in her voice
I said to my husband,
Do you think she made the right choice?
He said to me

“Fear is not the enemy, she is her own worst enemy
That isn’t a great way to make money.
Her scream echoed in the still of the night

While the rats in the warehouse rustled, in every back alley
Making a dash for a safe haven,
She was trading ****** favors, and a bit of tally

The ones before her should’ve warned her about the nightlife
Because, survival is a positive state of mind, and
Blackbirds can only see the dark side of light at night:

But the pretty young girl, with the straight yakked weaves
What did she achieve?
The boots were made for walking,
the midnight stalkers would always stalk
But not for the girl with B1 straight yakked hair
wouldn't live to see another day.

Yesterday, I caught myself off guard.
I was singing "Help!" and I laughed to myself.
I saw her standing there and she said,
"I'm suprised you can still sing The Beatles."
I said, "Me too. But just because she's gone, doesn't mean they have to be too."
She asked me what I wanted and I couldn't help but say that I Want to Hold Your Hand. But we don't always get what we want, do we now?
And With a Little Help From My Friends, I think I'll survive this heartbreak, this heartache.
I've been Across the Universe with you, but that was never enough. You still wanted more, and I hope you find it one day, my dear.
For a few weeks, I wanted to Get Back to the way things used to be, but we could never do that no matter how hard we tried.
And I send All My Loving to you, to you, to you.
Maybe I'll find it again someday--love--, but i think it's time to just Let it be.
And I Love Her. I love her dearly. I love her completely and unconditionally. I meant what I said, forever and equally. But it's time. I'm sorry, it's time.