Riding The Rails



Sometimes I worry about my insides.
My sainty can only stretch so far.
Like an old movie clip,
My life has no color, no sound.
Just the black and white of another day.
I haven't got any dice to roll,
no ace's to play.
One dusty boot in front of the other.
I don't even answer to my name anymore,
I don't want to hear you,
I don't have anything to say.
I'm just going to keep riding these rails
until the scenery stops going by.