Iron Horse

If you knew in your heart that this would end you, would you still start?
If you knew when you heard the train calling,
as you lept off the back of your steed,
that the tied and the writhing become
those hooves that’d be trampling you?
An Iron Horse.
An Iron Horse.
An Iron Horse.
An Iron Horse.
An Iron Horse.
You’re on your back and you wonder,
«How did I get here?»
There will be no daring rescue.
Ain’t no, «just in the nick of time.»
It’s just you, and that figure you talk to whenever you are in need.
So are you content?
You took the adventure and came back empty handed.