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The Train | ||
| Takata, takata, takata, I feel the lilt of the train. It's rolling just like it oughta, Across the grassland and plain. I gaze straight out of my window At lights that are piercing the night. As soon as they come they go As if they were made to take flight. I lean way back in my seat And read myself to sleep. The train has a schedule to meet, Takata, takata, no peep. | ||
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