Sleeper

A whistle blows The doors slide shut I store my baggage overhead The train hisses a goodbye, the station scrolls by I fold my coat to make a bed I can't afford a cabin, I can barely pay for this I envy fellow travelers in their bunks I look around the carriage and see familiar faces The dejected, the deserted and the drunks So I decide to join them, I walk into the club car The barman says tonight my drinks are free He says he knew that I was coming, he's an old friend of the family I might not know him but he knows me Our first stop's at midnight, we scrape into a station The platform pristine and glowing white A nuclear family sits waiting, the children behave Mom and dad hand in hand, they all smile and wave I ignore them, we push further into night Keep on rolling Just keep rolling Now I must be gone I fall in and out of sleep Unseen scenery flies by, hidden in the darkness, behind glass The window is my mirror, I look into my eyes Watching for the light I hope will pass I go back up to the club car but nobody's there The barman's gone, his work must be done He's left a gift on the bar A six-pack with a tag that reads "I thought you might need these, have fun" The next station's almost empty, there's just a lonely busker He's singing an old song I think I wrote But he's singing the wrong words above his empty hat And his rhythm is wrong too and he's singing it so flat He appalls me with every awful note Keep on rolling Just keep rolling Now I must be gone One last stop before my final destination We slow into a tunnel and arrive All is quiet, there's no one around Not a soul, not one thing alive There's a statue on the concourse An old father of the town A paragon of virtue with cold eyes He turns those eyes to me and sadly asserts "The sinner's life decides his demise" And then the lights are cut, the station turns black And once again a face is all I see I study its creases, the crow's feet and laugh lines I'm not even sure that it's me Keep on rolling Just keep rolling Now I must be gone Keep on rolling Bells are tolling Now I must be gone Now this is my last chance to turn and go home Only seconds left before the doors close I stand in the doorway, my bag left behind I look for light, a whistle blows