| Rattling down the track on iron wheels,
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| this is not an exercise, it’s for real.
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| I’m up here in the rushing wind, way down there.
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| This town is just a traffic jam,
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| you can’t walk the streets or breathe the air.
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| I’m a runaway train driver.
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| I’m a runaway train driver.
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| I’m a runaway train driver,
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| heading off the rails.
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| Thundering through the night with the moon in my eyes,
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| out into the daybreak and the new sunrise.
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| All I found was loneliness in the crush of the crowd,
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| but I’m bound for freedom now,
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| I’ve got power and speed, I’m never slowing down.
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| I’m a runaway train driver.
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| I’m a runaway train driver.
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| I’m a runaway train driver,
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| heading off the rails.
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| I am no ordinary vandal, oh no!
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| Hanging on to the dead man’s handle
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| and I’m never going to let go,
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| never going to let go…
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| This is not the green train.
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| I’m pulling this cargo up and over the top.
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| It’s a loaded son of a gun with the hammer cocked.
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| Slow-moving son of a bomb, soon it’s going to roll.
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| It’s too late to evacuate,
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| it wouldn’t do any good.
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| Where would you go?
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| I’m a runaway train driver.
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| I’m a runaway train driver.
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| I’m a runaway train driver,
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| heading off the rails.
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| This is not the green train… |