Chug, chug, chug, chug.
Although the sun is not shining,
it is a pity that it is dusk.
I am carrying my caravan, and my heart is cold.
I don't know where I will go in the future.
I want to ask myself, but I can't ask clearly.
Ah,
I am on the last train.
I don't know whose fault it is.
I am carrying my caravan, and my heart is cold.
I don't know where I will go in the future.
I am carrying my caravan, and I can't stop.
I hate that I shouldn't ask about the old dream.
Bye-bye, I lost the last spring.
Ah,
I am on the last train.
I don't know whose fault it is.
Joe
Roberts of Ohio,
The water flows in silence
The night train carries me
Tears are running down my face
Why do I have to ask him
How to clarify the future?
Ah,
he has got on
The last
night train
How lonely it is!