In the great distance I hear
The cries of
A midnight
Train
Passing through a
No name
Town
The dark hovering tree's guard
The lands
Secrets
Of those that
Once
Ruled
Horses hoove prints forever carved in
The concrete
Mud
Below
The cries of death echo in somber tones
On the
Hollow
Plains
Old wagon wheels scattered about
Along the lonesome
Trails
There is a chill in the valley where many said their  last words
Forever trapped in a
Stand
Off
Carrying big irons to warn off the riding rebels
That dare
Trespass
The doors to the saloon ragged and rotten
But you can still hear the music
Wailing and the screams of the
Waitresses as the
Men
Flirted And
Teased
Just outside a tumbleweed blows by
Not a sound to be heard
Its midnight
In the distance I hear
The cries of
A
Midnight
Train