Heading Home

Heading Home

The light peeks through the smudged window,
small towns are rolling by.
The click-clack of the rails below
blend with the whistle's cry.

It makes a mournful melody
that echoes in the hills
until it fades as miles go by
and finally it stills.

The motion of this old box car
that rocks me to and fro
reminds me that I've traveled far
and still have more to go.

(Refrain)
I'm riding on the last train home.
They're waiting patiently.
No longer will I need to roam;
there's nothing left for me.
We'll gather, friends and family,
tell stories from the past.
They'll fold this flag that covers me
and I'll be home at last.

An honor guard is waiting there,
a few eyes fill with tears.
The sound of taps floats in the air,
a sound so sweet and clear.

I'm lowered gently in the ground;
I say my last goodbyes
to loved ones who have gathered round.
Pride shines in their eyes.

As darkness comes, I see a light
that signals my release.
I know that I will be all right;
that I will rest in peace.

(Refrain)
I'm riding on the last train home.
They're waiting patiently.
No longer will I need to roam;
there's nothing left for me.
We'll gather, friends and family,
tell stories from the past.
They'll fold this flag that covers me
and I'll be home at last.

(Fade)
I'm going home at last ...
I'm going home at last.

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Prompt: Number 8: Last Train Home

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