Creeping through darkened towns
Trying to picture people, traffic, bustle
Its 2am but you’re not sleepy
The porter wants to make up the bed but you’d rather sit up
He mumbles something and returns to his own compartment to sleep
You leave a town and you’re back in the country
Dark other than mercury lights on barns, headlights in the distance
You’re sliding across America
Alone with your thoughts
Far from home
Far from her
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