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Monday morning, the sun is still sleeping;
Iâm sitting on a train that no one can see, far from home, riding to the unknown
My coffeeâs cold and it reminds me the timeâs running fast and who I used to be
Iâm just another passenger in another seat
A young childâs sitting in front of me, I can read in his eyes, he doesnât know where he is
His mother tries to hold him tight, the train goes fast and heâs already gone
Two lovers are sleeping together , they âre so quiet, like it will forever be
He holds her hands to keep her safe, he feels relieved; heâs not alone in this train
An old man, standing just by the exit, heâs not afraid; heâs just ready to leave
He looks around for the last time, takes his jacket and goes out with a smile
Along the railway, all that I can see are the shadow of the landscape and my fading memories
Along the railway, where I like to be
I know itâs not my place, is there a way to be free?
But why am I scared of this story?
The young, the lovers, the old seem to be happy
But what if it wasnât my train? Where am I supposed to be?
Iâd like to stop it but I canât, some of us used to think
There is someone here who handles this
But this train is one of those that no one leads.
The night falls, the train is now empty, Iâm so alone, just with the lights of the city
Itâs calling me, Iâve got to step out
I feel this is the end of my road
Along the railway, all that I can see are the shadow of the landscape and my fading memories
Along the railway, where Iâd like to be
I know itâs not my place
Is there a way to be free?
- Album:
- The Inequity