I sit by the window of my train, There's a sweet lullaby of screaming kids, They keep me awake. I look out, not stargazing, not seeing, don't know what to look or what I m searching. If there is one thing constant it's the sway, it keeps moving, all through the way. She's sweet enough to sway my dear train, but I was not weary enough to give in to the call of tired. It was a weird trip without a blink of sleep.