**「Blue Before the Train」**

Before the blue breaks into day,
I wake where thin walls flake away,
Ceiling stains like rivers run—
None of them lead home.

Boots by the door, dust in my name,
Men without faces, hands without flame,
I told you, “Love, I won’t be long.”
Winter kept me wrong.
(“not long… not long…”)

At the yard we lift our hands,
Hope weighed out by other men,
Some ride off in rattling steel,
Some stay still and feel.

If I work, I eat the night,
If I don’t, I drink its bite,
Iron dust inside my chest,
Your name beating in my vest.
(“hold on… hold on…”)

I wrote you in the margins of my pay,
Folded every word I couldn’t say,
“Wait for me”—the ink ran thin,
Rain on paper skin.

Oh, I’m standing in the blue before the train,
With calloused hands and quiet shame,
I can’t come home the way I left—
Pride is light, but guilt is heft.

Yet every dawn against this stone,
I hear your laughter in the cold,
If I can’t return to you,
Let my love return for two.
(“for two… for two…”)

One hard morning my body broke,
Knees in gravel, breath like smoke,
Sky went white without a sound,
No one gathered round.

In my coat, a folded plea,
Paper thin as dignity,
“Forgive the miles I never crossed—
I was yours… though I got lost.”
(“mmm… yours…”)

What is a man but breath and bone,
A borrowed bed, a borrowed tone?
But I felt the morning move—
Gold through gray, a gentle groove.

Not redeemed, not undone,
Just a shadow facing sun,
If I stand when they call my name,
Maybe I can bear the flame.
(“stand… stand…”)

Oh, I’m standing in the blue before the train,
With these weathered hands and your refrain,
I may not ride the road back home,
But I won’t fade to stone.

When the morning cracks the sky,
I will raise my hand, I won’t hide,
If I can’t return to you—
Let my love return for two.
(“return for two… return for two…”)

Spring is threading through the gray,
I’m still here.
I’ll stand today.
(“today… today…”)

**「列車前の蒼」**

夜明け前の蒼がほどけるころ
薄い壁の部屋で目を覚ます
天井の染みは川のように流れ
どれも故郷へは続かない

扉のそばのブーツ　名前に積もる埃
顔のない男たち　火のない手
「すぐ戻る」と言ったあの夜
冬が約束を凍らせた
(“not long… not long…”)

寄せ場でそっと手を挙げる
値踏みされる希望
軋む荷台に乗る者
立ち尽くす者

働ければ夜を食べ
働けなければ夜に呑まれる
胸の奥の鉄の粉
ベストの内で鳴る君の名
(“hold on… hold on…”)

給金の余白に君を書いた
言えなかった言葉を折り畳み
「待っていて」
滲むインクは雨の肌

ああ　列車前の蒼に立つ
荒れた手と　静かな悔い
出てきたままでは帰れない
誇りは軽く　罪は重い

それでも石の街の朝ごとに
凍えた空へ君の笑い声
もし帰れなくても
想いだけは　二人分
(“for two… for two…”)

ある朝　膝が砕けた
砂利に落ちる息は白く
空は音もなく遠ざかり
誰も振り向かない

コートの奥の折れた便り
薄い紙ほど重い願い
「越えられなかった距離を許して
それでも　君のものだ」
(“mmm… yours…”)

人はただの息と骨か
借り物の寝床　借り物の声か
だが朝は確かに動いた
灰色を裂く金の溝

赦されず　終わらず
それでも陽に向く影
名を呼ばれ　立てるなら
まだ燃えられる
(“stand… stand…”)

ああ　列車前の蒼に立つ
風化した手に君の旋律
帰りの列車に乗れなくても
石にはならない

空が割れて朝が来る
もう隠れない　手を挙げる
もし帰れなくても
想いだけは　二人分
(“return for two… return for two…”)

灰色に春が縫い込まれる
まだここにいる
今日も立つ
(“today… today…”)