天津，下了三天的雨，厚厚的云层终于晃开了，许久不见的太阳散发万丈金光。在湿漉漉的广场上，站着一支音乐队，旁边站满了熙熙攘攘的人群。我在一旁，啃着辣条，等待着那熟悉的旋律，突然，演唱会开始了。乐队里大多都是四五年级的学生，他们扛着电吉他和民谣吉他，敲着架子鼓，演奏着，歌唱着。我被带入进去了，久久的，久久的，心情不能平息。之前我也练过吉他，可最后还是被我亲手尘封了，不了了之。转眼间，曲目进行到了最后一首歌，我慢慢往家的方向走去，听着旋律，跟着节奏哼唱着：

If you miss the train I'm on

You will know that I am gone

You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles

A hundred miles, a hundred miles

A hundred miles, a hundred miles

You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles

Lord I'm one, lord I'm two

lord I'm three, lord I'm four

Lord I'm five hundred miles away from home

Away from home, Away from home

Away from home, Away from home

Lord I'm five hundred miles away from home

Not a shirt on my back

Not a penny to my name

Lord I can't go back home this a-way

This a-way, this a-way

This a-way, this a-way

Lord I can't go back home this a-way

If you miss the train I'm on

You will know that I am gone

You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles