the distant echo of far away voices boarding far away trains to take them home to the ones that they love and who love them forever the glazed dirty steps repeat my own and reflect my thoughts cold and uninviting partially naked except for toffee wrappers and this morning s papers mr jones got run down headlines of death and sorrow they tell of tomorrow madmen on the rampage and i m down in the tube station at midnight i fumble for change and pull out the queen smiling beguiling i put in the money and pull out a plum behind me whispers in the shadows gruff blazing voices hating waiting hey boy they shout have you got any money but i say i ve a little money and a take away curry i m on the way home to my wife she ll be lining up the cutlery and now she s expecting me polishing the glasses and pulling out the cork and i m down in the tube station at midnight i first felt a fist and then a kick i could now smell their breath they smelt of pubs and wormwood scrubs and too many right wing meetings my life swam around me it took a look and drowned me in its own existence the smell of brown leather it blended in with the weather it filled my eyes ears nose and mouth it blocked all my senses couldn t see hear speak any longer i m down in the tube station at midnight i said i was down in the tube station at midnight hey the last thing that i saw as i lay there on the floor was jesus saves painted by an atheist nutter and a british rail poster read have an away day a cheap holiday do it today i glanced back on my life and thought about my wife cause they took the keys and she ll think it s me i m down in the tube station at midnight the wine will be flat and the curry s gone cold i m down in the tube station at midnight don t want to go down in a tube station at midnight don t want to go down in a tube station at midnight don t want to go down in a tube station at midnight don t want to go down in a tube station at midnight