Where do those rails run?

Cold iron, cold iron
Where do these rails run?
Into the cold heart of the country
Into the hearts of everyone

Cold iron in my soul
A sliver of shrapnel
Just the last part
Of the bullet in my heart
Where you shot me

Cold iron, cold iron
Come to take my cares away
From the cold, cold morning
Of the railway

Cold iron in the north wind
Cold iron to the west
All I see are cold iron people
Wearing their chain mail vests

Come lay down your sleepers
Come lay them to rest
Cold iron creepers
Like vipers leaving the nest

Up past the scrub-land
Of the good intention
Out to the bone white trees
Into the frozen hands
Of a cold morning's breeze
Too cold to carry pretension

Some rails lead nowhere
Some tracks are dead
Some are like wild hair
Growing on a homeless man's head

Some sleepers are just rotten
They never find a bed
They can sleep no longer-they've forgotten
How to rest their heads

But the cold iron will remains
Even if their rails
Will carry no more trains

Their intention has been hammered down
By nine inch nails
Coffin ground, coffin ground
I can hear that coughin' sound
From the heart and lungs on fire
Smoke pours out from Hell's choir

Coffin ground where they lay their iron
Across the world, made their bed to lie on
Where are those rails running?
The devil knows and his cunning
Where have them rails run?
From hell below to heaven's sun