© M. Guerriere 2/4/1994

A white dove sacrificed
By a train that wouldn't stop
Sat on the rail without a thought
There was no escape, couldn't fly away
crushed in an instant
Times like these
Can't be bought

There's blood on the wheels
of the rumblin' train I'm ridin' on
There's death on this workin' girl's hands
There's death on the trail
of the rail
I left behind me
Take a sip
from my workin' days black unholy grail.

I see mirages of things in my reality
I turn my head like they're just not there
I could get wasted
but for me it's just a waste of time
Quite honestly I just don't care
if the dove's blood is my wine.

There's blood on the tracks of
the rumblin' train I'm ridin' on
For a day
I have kept myself alive
My soul's on a bus
to a big amp Meetin'
Way down South
But today I do what it
takes to survive.