I bought myself a train ticket, just to get away.

I bought myself a train ticket, just to get away.
Platform 8, New Street, on a lonely Saturday.
The train arrived on time, a streak of blue and white.
I climbed aboard and headed south, on a wild but tracked flight.

We passed through many stations where blurs of people stood
So bereft. No stopping trains? Were they misunderstood?
It's raining now, and the dirt trickles down the pane.
Through these windows the countryside may never look the same.


Birmingham, late 1985