John Hartford Shiny Rails Of Steel
In the dirty basements of my brain
The older of the iron train
Steam rise up an opaque cloud
And silence breaks like glass beneath the whistle clear and loud
And tire rods clank like robots as machinery slowly moves
To make it's effort down these shiny rails of steel
And through some window passing now
I think I see her now looking out
Her nose pressed round upon the glass
That flickers like a piece of jade as it goes flashing past
In dirty coalman coaches sliding out to meet the dawn
Beside the stockyards on these shiny rails of steel
So I turn myself around and walk along the wet concrete
That seems to crack beneath my burden and years of boiler heat
Around the mail trucks and the baggage
As I drag my shoes and go
To find some dismal bench somewhere
Within the depots yellow glow
Away from salad dripping kitchens from the seems of dining cars
That lay like diamonds on these shiny rails of steel
Through the speakers of my memory I can hear the sad refrain
Call the number of the loading gate to catch the southbound train
Her suitcase like a coffin in the creases of my hand
Then suddenly I'm all alone with no place else to stand
As cars all chunk together and the steps are moved away
And shes gone upon these shiny rails of steel
