When I grow up
I want to be
An engine driver
I'll build up
My own head of steam -
Twenty-five horsepower
Old hands, new power
More miles per hour -
Strange light
In the ancient mills
New sights for old eyes
Giant leaps under small skies -
A sense of death in the hills
But when I pull off
I don't want to
Follow time tables
Or tracks
I will cut
New paths through
Topsoil and tarmac
Old hands, new power
More miles per hour -
Strange light
In the ancient mills
New sights for old eyes
Giant leaps under small skies -
A sense of death in the hills
The only thing that
I will leave behind
A simple trail -
Two stark parallel lines
That cut their way away
Across the land
Which our children will preserve
But won't understand
Understand
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