There's a train departing at 1am.
It's not the normal trains who's wheels squeal on tracks or whistles blow and wheels screech to avoid crashes
The train I'm talking about is my train of thought.
Normally everything is linear.
Everything is fine and I over think every once in a while
But every once in a while, around 1am
My disaster train leaves and I can't rein it in
Here come the insecuties and old heart breaks
Angry old rants and sadistic new views
It's all jumbled mess and it comes with feness
And crashes through the walls of my mind like-well a freight train.
There's a train leaving at 1am.
We know where it goes and what hops aboard.
Let's just try and close those eyes
Before your up late enough to hear the wistle blow.

I step onto the mat
the sudden softness springs the other awake
the one born of pain misery and focus
everything deafens
the world blocks out
its me and them
whoever wins the better
no complaints no if onlys ones stronger
ones weaker
everything blanks out thought included
it slows you down reaction after reaction
wistle blows your hands raised
the beast quiets
till called on again

Down cobbles rose garland sways
still sweeet fox pollon
seep down alley ways
exhaust for-seen resource in shadow

wisk e-hers tinber lit darkness - ray-linear  
Ultra violet ultra steep
o wains and candles
tis summer gleam & beneath tomorro unseen
O castle ablaze let side leave wake till dawn day breaks drawn arrow

Sea Aparts nor seperated dose stars leaves flower beswayed fairy
rings set... pon cusion
Jestered not geer'd ad-sole speech
Healerrs only hear to kKill
And angels hide in coast drift demons
and darkness impervise light

Sweet to kindle
Awe lonely hears
swoop and fain in wistle of nestle

math to flame
crossed goldenfields than adorn
& Spaninsh crux+, shall meet morn

settle anew conflict
will decide on hieght brother
conduct fist to system a sword
yours Shall swing on daymakers eventual deprive
bell to chime and hymm see rise & yawns

Up the tree grows,
wistle from the windy blows.

A leaf in the wind,
the wood you were to kind'.

Have you heard the little bird wistle your daddy problems are sickening and you couldn't handle how I made you rarely rock my rollie. That's a funky **** pipe that ***** not cool duude, that's **** doodoo. Dozing off.

Sunday, the lads are on the pitch
they were ****** the night before
the other side look just as bad
not sure any are fit to score

The whistles blown, the ball is kicked
three players chase concentration on their faces
The keepers are leaning on goalposts
and seventeen are tying their laces

Number nine is running at goal
He must score, it's in the bag
the ball soars past the goalie
and hits the corner flag

By the half time wistle
there was one red card and four yellow
players were crawling off the pitch
the supporters were less than mellow

The full time score was a one all draw
the Ref blew for full time
the players headed for the bar
Twenty one pints and a lager and lime

Match clebrations went on for hours
though neither side had won
next Sunday they would play again
only to draw again, one, one