You sit where the cold tiles meet
The grit of a concrete street
Your coat is a salt-stained grey
You wait for the break of day
You are the ghost of the track
Watching the midnight come back
Steady and still as a stone
Keeping the lonely ones known
A gum wrapper rolls in the breeze
The steel humming low in the freeze
You scent every stranger who nears
The weight of a thousand long years
You are the ghost of the track
Watching the midnight come back
Steady and still as a stone
Keeping the lonely ones known
You lean on a rusted iron beam
The platform a half-frozen dream
Your amber eyes lock on the light
A beacon that cuts through the night
The wind howls a low hollow tune
Under a city-blocked moon
You don't need a lamp or a bell
You know where the deep currents swell
A commuter sleeps on a bench
The air has a metallic stench
You nudge at a shaking left hand
The only one who understands
You are the ghost of the track
Watching the midnight come back
Steady and still as a stone
Keeping the lonely ones known
The first train arrives with a roar
Opening a heavy steel door
You stand as the crowd rushes through
A soldier in a coat of blue
You are the ghost of the track
Watching the midnight come back
Steady and still as a stone
Keeping the lonely ones known
Keep the watch tonight.
Just you and the white light.
