You catch your train. You pay your way. Lay your last tickets down. The black year burned. The ground still warm. You cut your names. You paid your way. Work won't cover the past, And the pressure won't change. The black year burned. The ground still warm. You catch your train. You pay your way. Always made to wait. You pay your way For longer days. Laid your tickets on the stone. Cut your names, and set it in the wall. Work won't cover the past but you tried. You paid your way.