Traveling

The rail track is miles away,

And the day is loud with voices here and there.

Yet there isn't a train that goes by all-day

But I hear its whistle shrieking out loud, shrill.

All night there isn't a train goes by,

Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming,

However I can see its cinders red in the sky,

and hear the sound of its engine.

My heart is warm with friends I have

And better friends, I'll not be knowing;

Yet there isn't a train I wouldn't take,

No matter where it's going.