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Flying Scotsman waited in his shed. It was top of the line, and had everything a steam engine could possibly need, but Flying Scotsman knew what he needed was to work. Not far away, he could hear the zoom of streamlined diesels flying by on British rails. He sighed, a little wistfully.
Before long, Scot's crew arrived, to fire up the record-breaking engine before he left to take his train to Vicarstown, Sodor. He coupled up to his high-end coaches and picked up his passengers at the stations, which had changed so much in the past century. Far from being ornate Victorian buildings, with only the sound of steam being exhaled, people chattering, and the guard's whistle for a soundtrack, the stations of 2023 were now equipped with electronic cameras P.A. systems, loudly declaring the arrivals and depatures. A green light appeared, and Flying Scotsman was on his way to Sodor, billowing clouds of steam.
When he closed his eyes and listened to his mechanical body propelling the train, Flying Scotsman could recall his peaceful early days pulling the train he was named after before dieselization, before he had gone around the world and back on wild journeys with his beloved owner, Mr. Alan Pegler.
The pacific opened his eyes with some annoyance as harmonica music began to waft out from the inside of his cab. One of the new inventions Scotsman had seen develop dramatically over his hundred years was the mobile phone. His driver especially liked to play a little sixties rock when they traveled in the morning, and it looked like this one would be no different.
The road is long... with many a wind-ing turn, that leads us to who... knows where, who knows where...
Flying Scotsman definitely knew where he was going, he had taken his first train to Sodor decades before 2023, to see someone he almost didn't believe was there.
But I'm stro-ong...strong enough to car-ry him. He ain't heavy, he's my bro-ther!
As he reminisced, a streamlined steam engine blew by in a shiny streak of pink and blue. Scotsman winced inwardly, recalling the fateful day things reached a peak with his and Gordon's rivalry. He had laughed when his little brother announced that he was "The Shooting Star now!"
So on we go... his welfare is my concern!
It hadn't been funny when his brother's face turned a striking shade of scarlet soon after the announcer said "Go!" Even though he was younger, Flying Scotsman had always felt responsible for his siblings, partially because he represented the glory of the A1/A3 class.
No burden is he... to bear, we'll get there...
"Listen to me Gordon, you have to stop!" For a few seconds, Scot was afraid he would lose the last survivor of his close family, "Come on Gordon, be okay, we'll finish the race together," Scot's mind screamed but he was afraid to say it, he couldn't disappoint his people. Then Gordon's boiler plates popped off in a rush of steam and he struggled to a stop. Scotsman looked on with grave worry and sadness, and Gordon looked back in shock and anger, until the Belgian engine flashed by and he jolted back into his deeply engrained desire to win...
For I kno-ow, he would not encumber me... he ain't heavy, he's my brother!
Flying Scotsman pulled into Vicarstown Station. His troubled gaze faded as he saw Gordon beside him. "Good morning, little brother!" He said by way of greeting. He couldn't resist. Gordon groaned, departing with his own express.
If I'm laden, at all...
The weight in his coaches lightened as Scotsman's passengers got off, but the weight in his heart remained.
Then I'm laden...with sad-ness!
Scotsman sighed, moving ahead automatically at the guard's whistle and his driver's cues. Just when had a barrier been erected between him and his brother? When he became famous? After he came back from his world tours? Scotsman was going on so many tours back then he hadn't had a chance to tell Gordon about them, but even when he had, the elder engine didn't want to listen.
That ev-eryone's heart, isn't filled, with the gladness... Of lo-ve! For one another...
The famous green engine began to slow down, puzzled, as he saw yellow flags and an unmoving line of coaches in front of him on the opposite track. "Gordon?" Scot called. "Oh, what is it, Scot? I'm waiting for another engine to take my train back to Knapford."
"What happened?" Gordon ground his teeth. "I burst my safety valve,"
"Oh..." Scotsman considered this, trying not to laugh. "Is it okay," he asked, treading carefully, "if I give you a push?"
It's a long, long road... From which there is no return!
Gordon gave his sibling a long, sober look. Scotsman smiled softly.
While we're on the way... to there, why not share?
"Yes, that would be fine. But won't I weigh you down?"
And the lo-ad, doesn't weigh me down...at all!
Scot smiled. "Nope,"
He ain't heavy, he's my brother...