Travel

        The railroad track is miles away,
            And the day is loud with voices speaking,
        Yet there isn't a train goes by all day
            But I hear its whistle shrieking.

        All night there isn't a train goes by,
            Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming
        But I see its cinders red on the sky,
            And hear its engine steaming.

        My heart is warm with the friends I make,
            And better friends I'll not be knowing,
        Yet there isn't a train I wouldn't take,
            No matter where it's going.