We all sit at our own train stations waiting waiting waiting Until the trains are gone and the clocks chime ten-o-clock. Then we peek through the windows on the walls and watch the flurry of the crowds the metallic heartbeat of Earth the fall of the stars the end of this dark, dark period called time. We watch empires descend kingdoms crumble dynasties fade birdcalls wilting like the tilt of a rose We hear the cold, thrumming veins of life and death alike that hurry us on, hurry hurry hurry they whisper their voices like vines lacing through this darkness Then we rebel and fight and revolute and fade and weep and rest in tears of time We watch all that and we do all that and we ignore all that until we fall We watch all that then we sigh frown rub our temples peer at our watches and return to our train stations to wait for tomorrow's chime of ten-o-clock.