I've got an old friend
That I don't truly know
He calls me sometimes
And I talk to him when I'm all alone
He's somewhere on his travels
When and where I can't tell
Out of reach most of the times
But sometimes tells me what he sees on his way
He's hiding in the back lots
And dusty alleyways
Where the rusted pipes rest
Done carrying the load of the past days
He's in the sleepy harbours
And the railroad yards
Where the night lights cast their shadows
And the skeleton cars stare at the dark