what shade has come over me
to leave such a trail of steel,
this thing i live is a run-away-train

i feel so obliged to follow it,
dragging me, kicking and screaming,
didn't i once engineer this life gone insane

pulled along behind, face hid in forearms,
ka-knock-'knock-knocking my head on every railway tie,
what shade is this that has split beans brain

by the wrist i am chained to my run-away-train,
with traits of a hell-hound, out of control,
nothing i can push to stop from being pulled

bound to lose faith at the very least,
though risk of life and limb be the final price,
what shade is this film that i have cast myself in,
what shade is this play that won't go away