There has been a train in our presence since the world’s beginning, different from all the others.
Each year, this train gets the most business and terrifically tears us from our lovers
The usual train is fueled on a common gas and power
However, this one only runs on the souls of those, who’ve finished their last hour
The train has its moments, but the most hectic time is when a war takes place
Once on the train, you sit where you are seated, no matter your army or race
Bodies can return by plane or ship, back home over the seas
But family and friends will not see their loved ones alive, not by any these means
At train stations, the wait is round’ forty five minutes and the ticket is fifteen or so
For the death train, you waited a lifetime and you’ve already paid the toll
Conversing and reminiscing with others is definitely permitted
A recommendation is to repent your sins, in hopes that you’ll be admitted
It’s a manifest fact that we all die at some point, far or near
A word to the wise, embrace it fully rather than live your life in fear
We all have a ticket to get on the train, whether we like it or not
Where we are taken, depends on our effort put in and how hard we fought
“I hear that train a coming”, the distinguished words of Johnny Cash
He lived his life and accepted, we are flesh then we are ash
Like a spider in its web, the moon gently rest on the darkness of the sky
Placed peacefully in the ground, you’re oblivious to lit luxuries, only familiar to dark nights
You’re picked up and the train takes off, on the trip there’s only one stop
The train travels close, but stops in the middle between the bottom and top
No matter how much time it takes, it is there that you stay and wait
Determining whether you’ll be knocking at hell’s wall or at heaven’s gate
There’s an overriding power, in command, but we still have own our choices and actions
Our lives are part of his master plan, and our decisions are only fractions
We were put on this earth and we’ll be taken off, all by the same hand
The rain has fallen and he holds the stick to write in us, the wet sand
In heaven we are amiable, all rejoicing as we look down on the earth
Because we know, statistically for every death there is another birth
Friends and family will mourn, and tears will surely be shed
This is just a palpable aspect of life, as a result of one dead
Don’t waste time; don’t let a minute go by
You will live, and then you will die
Our journey on the hill, from boys to men
Our time will end, and another’s will begin

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