It’s a slow train to Glory. A train with sixteen stops. It’s a slow train to Glory. One way, no return. It’s a slow train to Glory. The early movement’s subtle. It’s a slow train to Glory. A slight shake underfoot. It’s a slow train to Glory. The scenery’s still familiar. It’s a slow train to Glory. But somehow deeply changed. It’s a slow train to Glory. At stop four the conductor comes by and straps you in. It’s a slow train to Glory. You sense you’ve passed a boundary - faster/slower/yet unchanged. It’s a slow train to Glory. After six stops it’s a local, and folks start to depart. It’s a slow train to Glory. From seven to sixteen, there’s a steady thinning out. It’s a slow train to Glory. Companions must step off, Tickets only past this point. It’s a slow train to Glory. Mercy begs for speed, while heartbreak pleads for it to slow. It’s a slow train to Glory. One way, no return.
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