Train Ride

My life moves faster than a Amarillo train
swept thru the seasons
like a fast plains rain.

West bound,
tied down,
my feelings remain
so I loaded up my belongings
and hopped a train.

She was the girl
the one to explain.

She smoked cigarettes-
he was to blame.
They moved thru the West
on a flat rail ride.
Lying on their backs
blessed by the moon and the sky.

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