trains [Theme] Page 4

It's my duty to drive the train. And above all, to avoid delays. Punctuality is for the driver - a matter of honor! However, I agree with you, Kate Walker: a train without passengers - it's not a train.

Train to Leningrad.
We'll be apart with you.
His eyes closed.
I will not accept your fate.

It will be an awesome wreck! Sorry, no one will see...

- And the trains run frequently?
- So often that they cease to notice them.

If we say: "Your train is gone!"
We will answer just that the wait for another.
And so on the platform, were not bored,
We will cover the table and drink for love and will
Well! Everything will be fine!
Everything will be fine I know, I know!
Well! Everything will be fine!
Oh I feel girls zagulyayu, Oh zagulyayu!!!

Thundering black of the train, shaking the Windows of the house; filled with mountains of smoke, the ghostly movement of the shoulders, dropping the burden, rising with a flourish, hiding the night sky salinensee; sleek metal fire burned the roof under the moonlight; and resonant the black shadow was awakened under the iron bridge, when it thundered black train, longitudinally squoze paling light. Rumbling drone, wide smoke passed, it seemed, through the house, trembling between the abyss, where gleamed conducted moon nails, rails, and the city street, which crossed a low flat bridge, waiting again another thunder cars. The house was like a Ghost, through which you can stick your hand to wiggle my fingers.

She fearfully refused the invitation of the dancers and was now dozing sensitive, old-womanish dream, through which huge scales, trembling full of dishes, took the rumble of the trains.

Maybe these eyes I do not meet never,
Maybe the last time your eyes saw me,
Where the platform will come to life, train to happiness bring,
Those mysterious eyes - just where is the station?

Have you noticed that reserved seat travel the most liberated people? In General, any complexes! No sooner had the train move, half already in his underwear. Someone from under the blankets, sticking a piece of ass; some of his grandfather from the top shelf hanging balls, plays with them child. The mother says, "we Have a growing boxer!" Just awful. Second - class carriage- the only place and hanging eggs, and eat eggs.

Brew some tea, sit down and imagine the sound of the wheels. You are going on a long journey, and I'm not a psychologist, but your casual companion. Talk to me, easily and openly, as if soon will my station and we never see each other again. Ready? If Yes, just answer the question: are you happy?

Look around us people of all classes, of all nationalities, of all ages. For three days these complete strangers to each other people are inseparable - they sleep, eat under one roof. It takes three days, they parted to never meet again, and each goes his own way.

And all because of these damned trains. All because of the bloody trains. Blame the train. Trains - are to blame. Tired!

- If you have a station... then there's probably a train.
And if there's a train... it goes to the Wild Hunt.
- If there's a train station... then there's probably a train.
- And if there's a train... it's going to the Wild Hunt.

Train, they go away and come back again, and I believe that my, once left the train to get back.