on the day that I found I was travelling    with words too heavy   hammering my skull   was the day that I woke on a train   looked around in my cabin    heard the rhythm of the wagon    repeating, the beating:      there's a morning on the way       when you're locked like a thief    in the poor arms of expectation   oxygen is thin   in the middle of Spain but you're   freezing from isolation   get yourself together and sing:      there's a morning on the way