The Train Conductor


I noticed again on a trin on a train
That our driver was reading a book
And I wondered again on a trip on a train
What if he needed to look?

If a person ran out with a cry and a shout
How could he see them in time
If he split them asunder
With the roaring of thunder
Who had committed a crime?

On this cool winters day
Riding blue MTA
Was they who were lacking in thought?
Or was it the driver immersed like a scriber
Or the person in pieces now nought?


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