A black machine on rusted wheels
It knows exactly how it feels
The depot paint is peeling grey
It watches trains all drift away
Tapping out a heavy line
Counting down the wasted time
Ink is dry and ribbon torn
Waiting for a day reborn
The ceiling leaks a steady drip
The metal sliders start to slip
A wooden bench with splintered pine
Sits beside the yellow line
Tapping out a heavy line
Counting down the wasted time
Ink is dry and ribbon torn
Waiting for a day reborn
The carriage doors are locked and tight
The station lamps have lost their light
It rolls across the concrete floor
Searching for an open door
Tapping out a heavy line
Counting down the wasted time
Ink is dry and ribbon torn
Waiting for a day reborn
The copper keys are tarnished green
The strangest sight you've ever seen
A letter typed in double space
Left inside a lonely place
The clock has stopped at half past four
A sudden wind blows through the door
It doesn't need a steady hand
To travel to a distant land
The iron frame is cold and lean
A ghost inside a small machine
It hums a tune of salt and spray
Until the winter turns to May
Tapping out a heavy line
Counting down the wasted time
Ink is dry and ribbon torn
Waiting for a day reborn
Click, clack, click, clack. The iron key.
Click, clack.
