Dream, wake up from the whistle

　　Youth is like a green train

　　Running on the track of memory

　　Flowing scenery outside the window

　　It's a verse I read all the seasons

　　Funny dialects in the carriage

　　Classics that I can never tire of

　　Stops along the way are very small

　　Stories on every day are wonderful

　　There were laughters and tears

　　The years working in commuter trains

　　Getting farther and farther away with the green train of youth

　　Those wearing old-fashioned railway clothes

　　Those holding aluminum lunch boxes

　　Those wearing red work cards

　　Those speaking authentic dialects

　　Those who encounter love and become double workers

　　All in my youth with the original aspiration

　　They are railway staff who live in earnest