|
She rides along the narrow rail.
What does she see?
Which way is freedom? Which is jail?
All the migrating birds take off into the blue –
A little girl; a grown-up girl –
Her home all too soon lost from view;
Her home all too soon lost from view.
She rides along the narrow rail.
What will she find?
Yesterday’s dark; tomorrow’s pale.
A harmonica plays to the open sky –
A little girl; a grown-up girl –
In the cattle car, no one must cry.
Shadows have covered her lifetime.
What language can help her see this time through?
Who will call her by name
Who will hold out a hand
There in the world that is new?
She rides along the narrow rail.
What will she keep?
Snow turns to desert; memories fail;
To the fragments of life in her soul she must cling –
A little girl; a grown-up girl –
And what will the journey’s end bring?
She rides along the narrow rail;
Soon the last stop will come into view.
Who will be waiting
Who’ll hold you close,
There in the world that is new?
|
