Train 8

Down to the bottom again I just don’t think that’s right The only train departed Half an hour now gone by Nothing I can do It will never come round again Unless I construct my own station A little further up the line Built under star heavy skies Built with no other purpose Than a single night ride There must be a platform for the conductor To usher me inside As well as a bench to wait Carved entirely of pine There must be a little white ticket booth With little ticket booth sign Now once this is completed Calloused hands can rest I will purchase a ticket at fair cost Take a seat on the bench Where I’ll pass my time Waiting for my train to come And take me another few paces up the line