Cold steel road, rusted and old
Crammed with tales, most never told
Though each spiked tie did convey
Countless stories in its day
We gaze toward infinity
Where they end is a mystery
Instead we listen for a sign
A sudden breeze comes from behind
"Is the train going to come?"
I respond to my son
"It has passed us by you see
Freighting only memories
Let's walk halfway to the end
Step-by-step we will pretend
That we are the mighty train
Giving life to these rails again."
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