Snow falls on a Southbound train
Flakes enough to paint and stain
All the world in their domain

Stuck inside this stagnant crust
On metal wheels and under-rust
Feels more like pain than wander-lust

Siting still because of freight
To see its fate we wait and wait
The youngest stir, their voices grate

There has to be a better mode
To cross the land to one’s abode
Since progress from when horses rode

Indeed there is a smaller box
Much smoother too sans bed of rocks
To it the wiser masses flock

This newer mode more civilized
More flexible and free it rides
The height of speed industrialized

Often now is criticized
“We must ignore the soul to rise
Above the individual lies

“The greater good we all comprise”
Or so they do idealize
I’m stuck here as I realize

The greatest mode of transport be
The one that makes a person free
And that one still a car for me

“So blow the smoke and smog”, they say,
“And hasten now our judgement day
Unless we find a better way”

Unless that way will give me wings
I won’t let go my joyous flings
I do not fear these doomsday things

I’ll drive my car free and fast
Knowing that the fad won’t last
It’ll be your train, not me that’s passed
So joyfully I’ll push the gas

You needn’t worry that I do
It’s me who pays instead of you
Unlike your train that’s funded through

Money taken from the rest
And given to the pompous blessed
So they can do what they deem best

I’ll keep mine, thank you, if you please
It makes us all feel more at ease
So keep your hands away, you sleaze

I’ll drive into my own sunset
Excited for new forms unmet
Or maybe my own private jet

There’s something wonderful and free
Left uncontrolled by transport “We”
When making plans for me is me