| How long, how long has this train been gone?
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| Was there a man who asked for me?
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| I thought he’d wait to say so long
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| I’m later than I meant to be
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| The station master closed his eyes
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| Said — my dear, the trains are gone
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| Though forty years ago this night
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| The last train left for Viet Nam
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| She said — my hair is lit with gray
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| No roses bloom upon my lips
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| But seems like only yesterday
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| He graced me with a lover’s kiss
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| Then in the distance, thunder pealed
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| A whistle pierced the cricket’s song
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| And you could see the sparks and the wheels
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| Of the last train back from Viet Nam
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| It stopped just long enough to board
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| And as she ran, time set her free
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| A young man helped her through the door
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| And said — I knew you would wait for me
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| There’s many a young boy who won’t come back
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| Many a young girl who waits alone
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| Sometimes they meet on life’s long track
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| They board that last train and go home |