When the whistle blows far ‘way at night
And those tracks rumble with fright
The rusty wheels squeal at the station
Sweat rubbed from their foreheads
Lots of hard work without automation
Weary feet dragged to their creaky beds
And up before the sun does rise
Heavy shovel loads of coal to the engine
Filled with yawns and tired eyes
Every day begins with intention
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Author:
Cheesencrackers (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 14th, 2026 21:53
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
Offline)
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