With the dust all settled. 'long a lonely country road.
Near a railroad crossing, and a ghostly wind is blowing.
With his eyes grown heavy he slips back through the gears. And she's stirring slightly is that a signal that she hears?.
Sleep overtakes him and the world begins to spin.
They're left unconscious train tracks underneath them.

The whistle blows the engine screams, train's a rollin' through.
They're both knocked out, they're trapped inside there's nothing they can do.
They're roused by the blinding lights panic's setting in,
when all at once the car it moves and they're safe on the road again.

Train rolls on behind them. Engine's howl is a distant din.
Hearts all a poundin'. Don't know what just happened then.
And they calm down and drive on, looking for a place to rest.
At a nearby diner all the locals say they're blessed.
And they tell them a story 'bout that same spot on the tracks.
And a school bus full of children, must've been 'bout ten years back.

The driver he was panicking, pounding at the stick
train was coming rumbling, he shouted "GET OUT, QUICK!."
But the door was locked the brakes we're jammed the bus, it wouldn't move,
so many lives snuffed out that day so much for this town to lose.

Every now and then a stranger comes by and tells a story always the same, 'bout a car that's stranded on the tracks and a close call with an oncoming train. They've no idea how they survived, and you decide who to trust. But they all spoke of tiny hand prints in the dust.
Tiny hand prints in the dust.
Tiny hand prints in the dust.
Tiny hand prints give you a push
Tiny hand prints in the dust.

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