Lifting the smog beyond the city lights
Far away molecules drift out of sight
Perhaps on a vapor trail from distant flights
Crossing up strange patterns into the night

Seldom seen on western horizons far
Busy travel in the atmosphere so high
Those little trails that smoke under a star
To make one wonder just how high we fly

The train still whistles on the tracks nearby
Travelling on from from city to city
The sounds of sirens always fill the sky
Like the night winds fill our hearts with pity

No reason exists for the moon will cry
Except for the fact that our earth will die