Wake me when the
train comes through,
saints bending on the brakes
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in the back
sorting mail
If I'm sleeping soundly
go on
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in all directions,
through the stale winter
through the routine
let the brakemen
spark holes
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there.
In the whole night of
barricades and
ancient age (forgive--
remember me on windows
press my ticket to your
cheek
round, the small lights in
the cars,
Wake me.