Narrative (The)
Trains
Trains on train tracks are made to come backFrom every place that they've ever beenSeven-thirty Sunday of the weekI knew she'd leave me but not like thisYou know you're the reason that I felt alive out hereSo alone I've waiting for my chance to disappearThe wooden sleepers, the girders lie stillAre cold reminders of what you had to doWe're not like train tracks(We're not like train tracks)Sometimes we have to move(sometimes we have to move)And never come back (and never come back)Despite the things we loseYou know you're the reason I felt alive out hereSo alone I've waiting for my chance to disappearThis town is just a strip of bars and streets with common namesIt's strange to know you'll watch me as I slowly move awayTrains on train tracks are made to come back
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