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i can strum a little, i can hold a chord |
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this ain't the gospel and i ain't the lord |
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i'm no holy roller, but for what it's worth |
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my freedom's a train ride to heaven on earth |
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it's not just a train |
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it's saying goodbye, saying hello |
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to where we have been, where we might go |
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it's what we have passed, what we might see |
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it's not just a train, it's freedom to me |
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kids flattening pennies as the ironhorse rolls by |
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between the trains i see an old man |
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face full of smiles |
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young woman crying as her lover leaves |
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gun on his shoulder and stripes on his sleeve |
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it's not just a train |
|
it's saying goodbye, saying hello |
|
to where we have been, where we might go |
|
it's what we have passed, what we might see |
|
it's not just a train, it's freedom to me |
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through a crack in the the slats a harvest moon shines |
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on Harper Lee's pages i turn to kill time |
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the car toads are waiting for me at the station |
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to give the bum's rush to a frost bitten bo |
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it's not just a train |
|
it's saying goodbye, saying hello |
|
to where we have been, where we might go |
|
it's what we have passed, what we might see |
|
it's not just a train, it's freedom to me |
