East Coast Racer
Shaped for speed
strong on the wing
the sketches and designs were made,
frames were laid
by hand-picked men.
Working every hour they had
to build the fire
to make the engine;
looking to the road ahead
blows are struck
to forge the steel
so she can fly.
The road is clear
and words remain unsaid.
He walks the high wire
with the engines and men
of the line.
He sees love,
he sees hope,
he sees everything that they are;
the need to fly far.
He sees love.
Men as giants,
hammers falling,
the works' own heartbeat.
Furnace stacks with black smoke rising
steal the clean air.
(here she comes)
Joe and Tommy on the plate
their caps are worn in racing style,
elbows jutting from the cab.
Working every hour they had
to build the fire
to drive the engine;
looking to the road ahead.
There was a lonely voice
and it spoke these words:
"˜run hard as you like
for the engines and men
of the line'.
He sees love.
he sees hope,
he sees everything that they are;
the need to fly far.
He sees love.
Men as giants
feed the engine
build the fire from cold.
Coal and water
fire and steam
to drive the pistons home.
He sees love.
They ran south
working up the bank
past the upturned faces
of the platelayers.
She starts to take her wing,
she jumps to it like a living thing,
made for speed and in full cry
they gave her the road
and she holds to the line.
Church bells call a beat along the track
she burns with the substance of the land.
Racing through the circling lines
a rocket in blue at two miles a minute,
embers stream along her sides;
from this far away now,
she flies with them
into sky
into history
into legend
she flies"¦