The distant echo of far away voices boarding far away trains 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 d**h 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 gla**es 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