What is this I find myself on,
The relentless rhythm of its back.
Black and white images flicker on a wall,
The gaze of the audience fuel it's meaning.
Passing through the canyon we are relieved,
The shadows have not betrayed us.
The relentless rhythm of its back, comforting in the dark.

Long coats walk by the window,
Hats with eyes stare intently at themselves.
No meaning was ever found, just relentless rhythm and destination.

The same seats are occupied, by weary eyes and saddened faces.
Plug me into my holiday, anything to save me from the shadows.
The rhythm is back now my friend, we are all moving as one,
The relentless rhythm and destination friend, ticket for one?