It might be that choking grey dust where I see you running around
point to point
without any point
and all I can do is look down at you
Standing here tapping my feet
waiting for time, waiting for
what?
I just need to hear that welcome whine of the next train
pulling in
with its promises of
adventure
space
excitement
I need its promise to carry me
carry me
away
away
Picking up speed, faster and faster
not going home
not going away
somewhere inbetween
somewhere no-one can touch me
En-route
delayed