Windows Down

Sitting next to this train on the track side, admiring what I have completed. It's my name and the name of another one. That I have painted, that I have laid out on the side of this metal beast. On the side of this metal. And it rolls on, it moves from town to town. It covers the same ground. One day this train came back to me and my name it was still there. But the names of the other ones had faded. So I touched them up the best I could tried to make everything the way it was, but paint wont stick to the side of a rusted train. Just like painting them in the rain. And it rolls on, it moves from town to town it covers the same ground. This train came back a second time and my name it was still there. Yes, it was just the same, you know it had never changed. And the names of the other ones were nowhere to be seen. Stripped away by time and the elements. Stripped away. And it rolls on, it moves from town to town. It covers the same ground, it covers the same damn ground. Walking up the track side with this flashlight in my hand.