Drinking On A Train Poem by David Welch

Drunk, drunk on a trail,
rolling slow across the endless plain,
time, I feel no time,
just a warming buzz within my mind.
Deer, I see a deer,
bounding through the meadows far and near,
come, the waitress comes,
asking if I want another one.

Past the mountains high,
through an endless bluebird sky,
don't know really where I'm gonna go,
oh no,
the red, the blue, the green,
oh it all looks so pristine,
I should stop to see it
but if I will, who can know?

Go, the children go,
plaster their faces to the window,
laugh, can't help but laugh,
and wish I still was innocent like that.
More, I drink one more,
hours to go and scenery in store,
back, I just lay back,
take it all is as we roll down the tracks.

Past the mountains high,
where the golden eagles fly,
don't know really where I'm gonna go,
oh no,
through all these rugged hills
where the glaciers worked their will,
I should try to climb them
but if I will, who can know?

Out, I have passed out,
as if there ever really was doubt,
change, I see a change,
red-rock desert flashing in my brain.
Long, it's been too long,
the pounding in my head says something wrong,
why, can't recall why,
I took this train and didn't want to fly.

Past the mountains high,
where countless climbers have died,
just remembered where I'm bound to go,
oh no,
a new job I must do,
grunt work for a month or two,
will I ever get back here?
Let's just face it, I don't know.