Limited

I am riding on a limited express.

One of the crack trains of the nation.

Hurtling across the prairie

Into the blue haze and dark air

Go fifteen all-steel coaches

Holding a thousand people.

One of the crack trains of the nation.

(All the coaches, all shall be scrap and rust

And all the men and women laughing

In the diners and sleepers, all shall pass to ashes.)

I ask a man in the smoker where he is going

And he answers "Omaha."