THE BRAKEMAN 

I am a freight train

just rolling down the tracks.

Neither sad nor tired

I move across the land.

I run on broken words

and all my cars are empty,

but I keep on rolling,

rolling across the land.

Hope is in the next town,

I can feel it in the air,

still I pass right through

while everybody stares.

Bound to this track,

there’s no one can release me.

I must keep on rolling,

rolling across the land.

Up ahead there’s a brakeman

he wants me to slow down.

I could keep on steaming

and pass him on the ground

but there’s something in his stance

and the way he holds his head.

I can’t keep on rolling,

rolling across the land.

My engines slow down

and this train comes to a rest.

The brakeman stands beside me,

one hand upon my wheels.

You’re tired, he says

and in need of repair.

You shouldn’t keep rolling,

rolling across the land.

I’m still a freight train

just rolling down the tracks.

Now I find new places

with the brakeman at my side.

Together we keep rolling,

rolling across the land.