Trains. When I hear one (only late at night anymore) I feel like I'm the only person in the world except for that train out there in the dark and the guy who just blew the horn and the guy on the caboose platform, waving to nobody in the middle of the night while the train thunders past Layton Avenue, maybe six short miles from where I'm sitting right now. Trains out there in the dark, like thunder and half-memories and sun and shade and power and speed and going to somewhere I'll never go...but like to think about.
Yeah, I think you could do worse than trains. But then I'm a hopeless dreamer as I'm told by persons more grounded.
Tuck yourselves in, Cyburbia. And listen for the trains. - ursus