On and on and on,
down the rusted tracks,
screech and screams,
as horns howl in the night,
as we steam down our tracks.
Stations await,
people to collect and carry to
the point where they must go.

On the straights you can race ahead,
on the curved and bent, slow and steady,
I hope to come to the station,
where I lose not one of you my friends,
yet, at every station along my rusted track
I lose someone, and gain another,
but it doesn't negate the pain,
I dont want some to leave my train.