Across the dark and dusty plain. Where scars of old dry rivers run. Night unfolds a coal black shroud. Across the hard and stony ground. Distant stars shining bright. In the cavern of the night. All is still and silence screams. To the thunder of the Lorca train. Flaming steal swift as wind. Wires hum the rails ring. Smokestack burning fiery sparks. Rise up to the stars. Towns asleep by empty roads. Churches rise from crooked roofs. Cloaked in darkness nothing stirs. Grow smaller darker disappear. See the moon so still and cold. A million stars that shed no warmth. Your nightmares all come out to play. In the silver light. Wait for sunrise in the east. Long shadows crawl across the plain. The ghosts of night will disappear. And lay your fears to rest. Steam hissed up the hot coals glowed. The furnace blazed the wheels they rolled. On tracks of iron straight and cold. The silver moonlight danced. The flames are in the fireman's eye. Orange in the engines glow. Gleaming pistons whirling cranks. Wait for dawn the rooster's crow.