The 4:10 Flyer doesn't go by here anymore

I use to run to the fence
to vie the afternoon trains,
it was my daily routine;
part of my daily games.
I'd get a wave from the engineer,
count the cars as they went clickety clack
then I'd get a big Howdy
from the Caboose man on the back.
But now when I walk to the fence,
I look at the empty track below,
where trees now grow and
the 4:10 flyer used to go.
time has a way of changing things
age takes away our youth,
stories are told of old days,
some are even the truth.
a tear trickles down my cheek
as I walk through the kitchen door,
as sad as a person can be,
the 4:10 Flyer passes by here no more1