A train pulled through my heart and let you off.
You pushed your loco... motives...
into my life,
and it was easy for me to pick you up at the station
after the succession of our fifteen years.
There's been a long line of moving people
through this whistle stop
I’ve built on top of
my memories of you,
and after fifteen years you knew
how to give push and pull to all my gears.
You trained me to never love anyone else all the way—
letting my suitors trail far behind with a suitcase
while you became the baggage.
Our railway cars coupled together,
our train of thought forced to travel in single file
leading to a train of wrecks.
But, you were just dragging me loosely along,
covering all your tracks behind my back,
and I was nothing more than a one way ticket
to your dodge out of town.
I was a fool in love with a hobo,
watching you wander from one love to another love
without a permanent home.
Me, always there to help the down-and-out bums.
I'm composed of steel rails supported by ties to
providing a run(a)way
for train wrecks through my heart.
©2006 Don't Rub Salt in the Heartbreak