Slashing through the teasel
The herb Robert and the thistle
Laying low the nettles
Living and dead as a steam whistle
Stalks and blades
And crunching like a samurai sword
Through baboo
Gone the days
Of Railway glades
But the thought remains
It's true
Sh sh go the sibilant slashers
Sh sh go the wheels on the tracks
Sh sh she says
Hush hushing the railway backs
hiss, hiss go the "S's" of pistons
clip,clip go the volunteers' snippers
What use is all this now?
Hush the railway line
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