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I drive my train throught many towns,
and over the years i've done many rounds,
stop 24 she waits by the door,
awaiting her husband; tired and sore,
for 18 years i've watched their greetings,
and teaful goodbyes until the next meetings,
but these last few monthes my trains one person lighter,
and yet stop 24 she waits for the person who makes her world brighter,
refusing to believe the stories she's told,
of how her very own husband's life had been sold,
it becam aparent no passenger wanted off,
when at 24 all i'd hear is a sneeze or a caough,
and so from the route 24 was torn,
though she still waits;now holding a new born,
3 years later a small boy asked why his pa didnt great him at 24,
"sorry son, this trian dont stop ther no more".