Train of Thinking

This destructive train of thinking

I’ve had since YOU were born

Is going off the tracks, my dear

All battered, used and worn.

It’s strength is in its numbers

And not in bone and steel

Its beams are hot and weighted down

And are more than I can feel.

The screeching of its heavy brakes

Like a heaving, birthing sound

It can not stop its progress, love

For it is ending bound.

The cab’s full of conclusions

You can jump from here to there

The doors are flung wide open, dear

With too much haste, not care.

When you look upon the rooms

Countess will meet you sweetly

But do not linger long, my dove

For she’ll chastise you neatly.

And if you care to ask around

They’ll tell you all the same

The train has gotten lost again,

With only you to blame

You can implicate the engineer,

The butcher or the baker,

But criticize The Countess, sweet,

And she’ll tell you I’m a faker.

So if you hear the whistle blow

That sounds a bit like laughter,

Know that it’s in your head, my pet,

Forever and there after.