It Takes A Train To Sigh
Darkness was creeping through the falling rain on the platform
As a voice warbled through the tannoy overhead, giving
Information to a vacant station as the lights turned from red
To yellow. The footsteps of a well-heeled woman approached
From the ticket office; gripping her briefcase, fresh from her business,
As a man wanders in and paces the platform and studies his watch
And taps his feet and studies his watch and looks down the tunnel
And looks down his watch and studies the hands as he stands,
Impatiently. Waiting.
There she stands, cigarette smoke rising from her gloved hands
As she hides in a corner away from the eyes of those that might see her
And the wind's sharp whisper. Softly she coughs as she catches
His eyes that shy away and stares at the ground as though nothing profound
Has happened. He turns away and looks at his watch and politely holds
His hand over his mouth as he coughs and taps his feet, the impatient beat
Of a man waiting, waiting for a train.
The rain keeps on falling and the voice in the tannoy to all is calling
Attention; the train's destination will have to wait and the man
And the woman will have to be late as they look at their feet but think of their fate.
She looks at him slyly as he's turned away and both of them hope there is something to say
To break the silence to ease the tension, something or nothing the other can mention
To spark a hint of conversation, to test if there is some imitation
Of fate or life or some other lie, a subterranean lovesick sigh or
If the silence is just too to much bare or just that there is somebody there,
Somebody else to share the moment, to share a notion behind the air.
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