Drive By Train Lyric Novels & Stories

"Not yet we aren't!" Tristan crawled to the front of the tender, right behind the engine stack. He didn't absorb energy this time. He pushed the last remnants of the charge he had drained from the barrier into the train’s drive shaft. Boost. The white energy infused the metal. The Last Rites surged forward with a terrifying lurch. The wheels spun so fast they screamed. The train didn't just accelerate; it leaped. It hit the damaged section of the bridge. The rails twisted. The wood shattered.

🎶Gotta make me feel some typa way🎶 🎶I can make you feel some typa way🎶 🎶Buss a little twist, girl whine your waist🎶 🎶Omo you dey fine, no ramp or play🎶 🎶Know that your jus my type🎶 🎶Why you got me feelin' some typa way🎶 🎶Know that your jus my type, yea🎶 🎶Why you get me feelin some typa way🎶 🎶Know that your jus my type ay ay🎶 🎶Why you got me felling some typa way🎶 🎶Know that your feelin some typa way🎶 🎶Know you got me feeling some typa way🎶 Trina sang steadily at ease and for the first time in my life I saw Trey look at a girl with so much admiration

Kevin said and I smiled He is gonna miss me "If you are all done with the goodbyes let's go or you'll miss the train" Dad said Kevin helped me put my luggage in the truck I entered the truck and my Dad drove off and I continued waving at my Mom and Kevin till I couldn't see them again The ride to the train station was a silent one Dad didn't say anything We got to the train station and we came down I went to the back of the truck to get my luggage but that stopped me and took the luggage himself

Printed across the faded paper were six chilling words. RETURN JOURNEY NOT AVAILABLE. At that exact moment, the train's brakes screamed. The entire carriage shook violently. The conductor's voice echoed through every compartment. "Now arriving..." A long pause followed. Then, in a calm, emotionless tone— "...Black Hollow." The train came to a stop with a long, metallic scream. Silence followed. No announcement. No movement. Only the slow ticking of Adrian's watch. The carriage doors remained closed. Outside, thick snow drifted across the abandoned platform.

It's just an old beat up truck Some say that I should trade up Now that I got some jangle in my pocket But what they don't understand Is it's the miles that make a man I wouldn't trade that thing in for a rocket What they don't know is my dad and me We drove her out to Tennessee She's still here, and now he's gone So I hold on It's just an old beat up box Its rusty strings across the top It probably don't look like much to you

‘Hey Darling’ ‘I hope you’re good tonight’ ‘We haven’t spoken in quite some time’ ‘How are you now? I tried to sing. Tried to focus on the words as I drove down the road. I knew where I was going. I was going home. Home was safe. It was mine. Gripping the steering wheel tight, I tried not to panic as I battled the shadows creeping over me. I couldn’t let it take me. I couldn’t let it take over. Tears started to pour down my face but when I tried to wipe them away, fresh red color came back on fingers. Shit. Shit shit shit. I needed to focus. I couldn’t lose. Not yet. Not now. I was…I was so close. ‘Hey Darling’

I smiled and replied, "You should write the alphabet 100 times after you're done memorizing it. Write it out on a piece of paper. Don't type it with a keyboard." "Got it!" The high-speed rail entered a tunnel, causing the world beyond the window to flicker between light and shadow. I pocketed my phone and leaned back against my seat. An old, Canalian song played in my earphones. It was "Terry's Song" by Silvia Turner. I had listened to the song for many years, but at that moment, I felt as if I had gained a new understanding of the lyrics. "I was always flying alone above the dusk-colored clouds."

“I… I don’t remember everything… but I remember you. That feeling… you. And that’s enough.” My chest tightened painfully. “It’s more than enough.” Rain tapped gently against the metal roof above us. The silence felt heavy, stretched thin by fear and hope. Every distant city sound made me tense. “Stay awake, okay?” I murmured. “Just a little longer.” He fought it, eyelids fluttering. “I’m… trying…” At last, the low rumble of a train echoed through the yard. The ground trembled under us. Relief flickered through me.

“Ahhh slightly. Not too sure what you were hoping for when you were sent to the cells, the dungee-on, the prison… we could sing the Folsom Prison Blues together if you’d like.” I couldn’t help but let out a hearty guffaw and start belting it out ***I hear the train a-comin’ It’s rolling ‘round the bend And I ain’t seen the sunshine Since I don’t know when I’m stuck in Folsom Prison And time keeps draggin’ on*** “SHUT THE FU.CK UP!” He yells across the hall. That’s when I hear it, the guys cracking up. ***But that train keeps a-rollin’

“It’s late and I’m sure you have things to do tomorrow. I don’t want to take too much of your time.” He doesn’t say anything and just drive out of the parking lot. When the car goes into the rain, he turns on the radio. A song is playing, Whatever It Takes, by Lifehouse. I’ve heard of the song before but never really paid any attention to the lyrics. And now I’m trapped in the car with nothing to do but to listen carefully, it just occurred to me that, ironically, this song tells the exact story of us. “…A strangled smile fell from your face;