Steve Bug Follow

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

To take them home to the ones that they love and who love them forever