Language Of Steel
As I sit, back against unbending steel,
I hear the voices calling,
Hisses, and machinery that feels,
Rising, rising, falling.
Locomotives in the night,
That slash into the hills,
Have a great deal to say,
As it jerks and threatens to kill,
And if you see these starlit faces,
And if the metal forms the phrases,
And if you nod and shake and such,
The Train will teach you much,
From sea to shining to sea,
From black and darkest hells,
The gods of rocky mountains,
Engineers and the bells.
Now the metal screeches louder now,
And I close my eyes to sail,
Bones of diesel fumes and memories,
And a heart-mind made of rail.
Violence, wonder, and obsession ever still,
The darkness that engulfed me,
The darkness she has killed.
But do not weep for those,
Who with blood had died by train,
Weep for those in boxes,
Who live every day the same.
Tomorrow will be a different,
Feet on different ground,
A new man plucks his strings,
And strides in endless town.
The man hears all around him,
And his breath, combusted fuel,
I am the man.
I am the man.
