Who wouldn’t want to ride the rails
Cold steel ribbons scribing history’s trails
Through urban jungles and countryside
Canyons deep and prairies wide
Around each bend delight unveils
Who wouldn’t want to ride the rails
No grand illusion of luxury
Simply wind in face a spirit free
A gentle rhythm clicks and clacks
As the wheels revolve along the tracks
Creosote on the breeze prevails
Who wouldn’t want to ride the rails
Years ago when steam was king
When hobo camps a common thing
Many a man without a choice
Listening to an inner voice
Sorting out life’s small details
Who wouldn’t want to ride the rails
So little time so much to see
The opportunity is up to me
Reality wakens me from the dream
A silly notion it would seem
Still the journey beckons like a siren’s wails
Who wouldn’t want to ride the rails
Copyright 2012 Patrick Granfors
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