Ian Thomas Follow

Snow falls on the railroad ties this evening
And the shoulders of the over-coated men
Standing guard o'er the trains that have long since run the Main
And will likely never feel the rails again

And the voices that I once had heard so clearly
And found it once so easy to believe
Have shifted in the wind as it trails around the bend
And fall like a dead language on me

The hinges of the morning are creaking
And there's no one here to hear except for me
And the days before have turned as the flags on the main sails burned
And like broken ships have sank into the sea

And I ain't waitin' on any passing train
Nor howlin' at the moon to freeze its face
And I ain't sellin' off my soul for company
I'm already taking up this space

The friends I have known to bare their faces
They shine just like stars in an empty night
And I can draw them into patterned lines and spaces
But the borders of my memory bend the light

And with outward eyes I'd find repose
In my dealings with the merchants of the sea
But Neptune's creatures dwell beneath both calm and stormy swell
And no pirate crew can raise you from the deep

The poets on the stand can bare no witness
They all must first agree on déjá  vu
Like a nose against a rose, or the leaves when the March wind blows
No net of words could carry this to you

But you had me once before
When I waited by your gated golden door
Not long before I'd learn not to linger where it's cold
And when I left you were leaning on your door

And I ain't calling out anybody's name
Nor whining for the trees above to bend
And I ain't lonesome ‘bout any one girl
I'm just lonesome ‘bout being in this world