VERSE 1:

I'm waiting for the last train,

at a station that has forgotten names.

No footprints remain,

no embraces left to slumber on the platform.

The wind shakes the branches like old pages,

and the old ghosts—my shadows—

laugh softly, knowing that I will go on anyway.

CHORUS (ANTHEM):

The last train,

the last journey,

and I without luggage,

only a handful of songs that beat like lighthouses.

The last train,

the last journey,

and I without luggage,

but my voice ignites,

and my steps do not fade.

VERSE 2:

I keep waiting for this last train,

sitting on a bench that has heard too many departures.

Alone on this journey,

alone but at peace with my own farewell.

The birds converse among themselves

like weary oracles,

and gaze at me like another wanderer who chose to follow.

CHORUS (ANTHEM):

The last train,

the last journey,

and I without luggage,

only a handful of songs that throb like lighthouses.

The last train,

the last journey,

and I without luggage,

but my voice ignites,

and my steps do not falter.

VERSE 3:

In the distance, its murmur already trembles,

that last train that cuts the night in two.

It will pass by here

like a destiny that already knows my name.

I will be the last to depart,

the last to leave this town that chains me,

but not the last to keep dreaming.

The wind rustles the trees again,

and my old ghosts—my doubts—

fade away, vanquished by my decision.

CHORUS (FINAL ANTHEM):

The last train,

the last journey,

and I without luggage,

only a handful of songs

that propel me toward dawn.

The last train,

the last journey,

and though I travel alone,

my soul stands tall,

my fire never rests.

Because every ending

is a beginning that calls to me.