The Train

The lights stream out the tunnel, The tube stops at the platform, Passengers interchange. I wonder if the man in the suit, Ever stopped to think about that guitar player, The busker he never thought to spare a little change For he didn’t have the time. He was late for dinner, And he didn’t want his wife to interrogate him, About why he took so long and had red lipstick on his collar… The tube stops at the platform, Passengers interchange, The alarm bell sounds, The doors cl- , oh she just made it. The 20-something year old Artist, Blue hair, tattoos and a lip piercing. You may assume she’s just like you or I, Trying to get somewhere in this life, When in reality, she’s selling the paintings that she can, To support her single mother, who was diagnosed with cancer last year, And I wonder if that same Man in the suit, Ever stopped to help or even apologize, To this young lady, When he barbarically barged into her side, Causing her to drop all her artwork, Now destroyed beyond repair. He was too busy daydreaming about his latest job “perk”. Passengers interchange, The alarm bell sounds, Doors close, Train moves. And who does the train move with, I look around the carriage and I see people, They all look different with their own story to tell. Different personalities, some we may relate to well. The Stockbroker who just lost his job. The Italian couple who are madly in love. The insecure school-girl who wants the boys attention. The middle-aged woman who’s never been married, The smiling elderly man, who has Parkinson’s, The group of boys from south, hustling hard. The Chinese girl, new to life in the city. The Man in the suit who just cheated on his wife… The lights stream out the tunnel, The tube stops at the platform, Passengers interchange, The alarm bell sounds, Doors close, The train moves. The lights stream out the tunnel, The tube stops at the platform, Passengers interchange, The alarm bell sounds, Doors close, The train moves. We cross paths with strangers everyday, Strangers that perhaps we will never see again, Or even if we do, they wont be recognized, Simply because they don’t mean a lot to us. But even strangers can become life changers. I just find it funny, How we are all on a journey, We all start in the same place, And when its over, we all go back to the ground, Our routes are all different, Yet, the passengers always interchange. The Alarm bell sounds, Doors close, The Train moves.