Come

Come, a train or come the main ride the rails hoist the sails wind in your hair lightning in the air clickity-clack on a glowing track staying afloat in a rolling boat it's locomotive locomotion across continent and ocean flying like a ghost for that far off coast ride, rusty rails of steel beneath lonesome whinning wheels sing the blues while spreading the news: no more stops no more drops neither town nor port will pull us up short no looking back no losing track so, pack your grip for the trip bring a coat for train or boat it may get cold you may grow old it could be a long time to the end of the line, so ya best bring along your favorite old hat and your warmest grin, because one thing's really quite certain, we'll never come this way, ever again.