how long is this train son i heard his fragile voice i didn t want to listen but there really was no choice it seems like it goes on forever and i waited for so long the old man s breath came slow and smelled of whiskey in the dawn on a cold november morning in the gentle mist of rain there s just so many reasons that people wait to meet a train and as i waited for my sister to come down the metal stairs he told me that his son had not been home in fifteen years and i barely seemed to notice the tears behind his face but his wishes were no strangers to the people in this place the old man stood there waiting for a young man dressed in blue then he handed him a neatly folded flag and said for you he said your son he died a hero in the service of this flag the old man took it gently put it in his paper bag then i left him in the rain there but i d still hear his voice i try hard not to listen but there really is no choice on a cold november morning in the gentle mist of rain there s just so many reasons that people wait to meet a train how long is this train son i can hear the pouring rain