The train and the telephone that no longer work.

Call the train, the word of the poor good will.

It´s a fantasy, to buy a ticket and go to the destiny on foot along the train line.

There´s no future on the wheels. The locomotion, from left to right and never in a search for the next train station.
Drive by those who stand on the word´s way. Nothing wrong, if we freely think that we all live in the wild.
The word with the future and with recitals in it´s hands. It´s all in the good will. Everything remain in the same place, the train never arrived and will never arrive at it´s destiny. It´s the life of an immortal train.
Buying train´s tracks in the supermarkets just to please the it´s Manga.
The clouds and the crowds at the castle garden, whistling to where no one can listen.