young veterans

this train is laden with compost
towers of baggage and forlorn faces
stacking higher and higher
until the it gives the tunnel air a wave
and falls down into itself

it's not that there's too many people in here
it's just the last stop was in catalonia
and we've never had a break since then
i still remember the rush of the crowd
as machine guns rattled and artillery howled
through the cellar doors into the dilapidated castle

you could say the word fuck
and it probably wouldn't
compel some builders to reforge the train lines
they probably wouldn't hear it at all
and would watch the carriage splutter into the ditch

you could say the word please
and they would do the exact same
so nothing ever changes
utopia never magically springs up from the hills
and consumes the planet in a mild rage

so as we're skidding towards the ditch
and compost flows out of the dents like a fountain
we just need to know what to do
when it stops or if we stop it
and how we can keep the rusted wheels turning
despite the corrosion inside our brains