At suburban
railway stations,
you may see them as you pass
There are signboards on the platform
saying, wait here, second class
And to me the whir and thunder
and the clunk of running gear
Seem to be forever a saying,
saying, second class, wait here
Yes, the second class were waiting
in the days of serf and prince
And the second class are waiting,
they've been waiting ever since
There are gardens in the background
and the line is bare and drear
Yet they wait beneath
the signboards,
nearing second class, wait here
I have waited in the winter,
in the mornings dark and damp
When the asphalt platform
glistened underneath that lonely lamp
And the wind among the poplars
and the wires that thread the air
Seemed to be forever snarling,
snarling,
second -class wait here
Out beyond a further suburb
near a chimney stack alone
Lay the works of grinder brothers
with a platform of their own
And I waited there and suffered,
waited there for many a day
Slave beneath a fandom signboard
telling all my hopes to stay
Oh, man must feel revengeful
For a boyhood such as mine
God, I hate the fairy houses
Near the workshop by the line
And the smell of railway stations
And the roar of running gear
And the scornful sneering signboard
Saying, second class, wait here
There's a train with death for driver
that is ever going past
There will be no glass compartments
when it's all aboard at last
For the long white Jasper platform
with an Eden in the rear
And there won't be any sign board
saying second class wait here
Oh no, there won't be any sign board
saying second class wait here
You