It's June and I see the woods, The quiet pools, The glades and blue hollows... I saw the woods were wound with sorrow So don't stop, clatter on, But it says 'come on...come on' As doors swing open it to lazy gardens, 'Come on...come on This is love, don't go on.' And I see the perfect wife, I can almost smell her apple breath And her milky dress... She says 'come on...come on This is love, don't go on.' I swoon past the pearly rooms In staggered roofs... He waits for tomorrow, I saw his lips were mouthing 'follow, This is love, don't go on.' But I scream-come on...come on My iron horse, my train, my ghost companion Come on...come on my iron horse clatter on. And I feel its heart unwind And pull me to its gleaming breast, Its black flesh... It says come on...come on, Never stop clatter on. The iron horse pumps its steam screaming Whistle.