The light at the end of the tunnel
Is the oncoming train of time
On the front you will find the Grim Reaper
With a flamethrower, clearing the line.
There’s no maintenance hatch in this subway,
No sewer grates, alcoves or cracks
Just a lot of oblivious people
Obsessed with the dirt on the tracks
There’s a rumour that this is the purpose
And that Life is just one long detail
So for every six combing the sleepers
You’ll get one trying to find the live rail
How we got here ain’t really important
And all the stories you hear are just Talk
So we once had a Train, and one day may again
But till then, my friend; We Walk.