I boarded the last train out of reality,
seeking the great West of Nowhere
you promised we'd call our own.
I asked the attendant,
"Are we there yet?"
But she just gave me a sad laugh
and asked me to sit back down.
I guess she just doesn't understand.
At each stop I close my eyes and hold my breath,
not daring to take a single peek until I feel
the train moving beneath me,
hoping you'll be there when I open my eyes.
You never are, but that's okay.
You promised you'd meet me somewhere along the way,
and you wouldn't break a promise.
You still remember me, don't you?
Of course you do.
Eventually, the train stops and the lights dim.
I am told it is the end of the line,
but it must be a mistake.
You aren't here
and this isn't our West of Nowhere.
I guess I'll try again tomorrow,
I'll find it, I swear!
Just don't give up on me.