The sun sets on a sky full of kite birds
In a helter skelter array.
The landscape turned into a blur
By the passing train,
A glimpse at a time
Through a speeding view-master.

Caterpillar people crawl up the aisle
Looking for the dining car
While the wheels beat out their brains
A track at a time.

Crossing Black Jam River,
Soon it will be dark.
If you ever want to see cripple trees,
Take the train.
All the stunted shrubs left to suffer
By the side of the track.

A chill runs across the water
In a ripple of black fur.
Easy boy,
It’s just the wind.

Tonight the train is my lover.
Right now she’s roarin’ down the track,
Shaking ever so gently back and forth,
Her movements please me.

Sometimes she hesitates,
For a moment,
As if she’s unsure of herself.
Then she just picks up speed...

"Reservation no. 4, this is the last call.”

By Johnny Mayer. © 1999 Johnny Mayer

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