You may not believe it, but I don't believe in miracles anymore.
And when I think about it, I don't believe I ever did for sure.
All the things I've said in songs. All the purple crows you've bought for me.
Reality's just black and white. The senitimental things I write never meant that much to me.
I used to be the main express.
All steam and whistles heading west.
Picking up my pain from door to door.
Riding on the storyline
Furnace burning overtime
But this train don't stop, no this train don't stop, this train don't stop there anymore.
You don't need to hear it, but I'm dried up and sick to death of love.
And if you need to know it , I never really understood that stuff.
All the stars and beating hearts. All the tears that welled up in my eyes.
Never meant a thing to me. Read 'em as they say and weep. I never felt enough to cry.
When I say that I don't care
It really means my engine's breaking down
The chisel chips my heart again
The granite cracks beneath my skin
I crumble into pieces on the ground.
But this train don't stop, no this train don't stop, this train don't stop there anymore.