In the morning, 'fore the sunrise,

When the paths, is’lated and dry,

When the city lights, don't beam and bright,

The fast train passes by.

When the beggars slumber coldly,

When the failing lights expire,

When merely a score, are waiting for,

The fast train passing by.

When the train shakes cargo gently,

When glissading on rails, it cries,

When the suburbs far through, awaken to,

The fast train passing by.

When its passengers grow in count,

A score boards, then twenty-and-five,

When the towers frown, to study down,

At the fast train passing by.

Stop! ¡Alto! Arrêt!

Mind the gap as you offboard,

The fast train

The rats exit, a flurry of people,

Under a dark, grey cloudy sky,

A suit blown by wind, he turns to look,

At the fast train that passes by.