Trains on train tracks are made to come back From every place that they?ve ever been Seven-thirty sunday of the week I knew she?d leave me but not like this
You know you?re the reason that I felt alive out here So alone I?ve waiting for my chance to disappear
The wooden sleepers, the girders lie still Are cold reminders of what you had to do We?re not like train tracks (We?re not like train tracks) Sometimes we have to move (Sometimes we have to move) And never come back (And never come back) Despite the things we lose
You know you?re the reason I felt alive out here So alone I?ve waiting for my chance to disappear This town is just a strip of bars and streets with common names It?s strange to know you?ll watch me as I slowly move away
