Текст песни
The train exhales its breath of steam
Everywhere the young are leaving
Cardboard cases, borrowed courage
Sandwiches in yesterday's news
A father grips his daughter's hand
One second longer than he should
She's already gone inside her mind
Standing somewhere bright and good
Whistle blows, doors slam shut
Smoke rising past the clock
Every carriage holds the same-
Kids who won't be coming back
Down the platform stands a boy
Checking his ticket one more time
Hands are shaking, thinks no one sees
We all see-we've all been him
Whistle blows, doors slam shut
Smoke rising past the clock
Every carriage holds the same-
Kids who won't be coming back
Some are waving through the glass
Some are crying, some are not
Some just press their face against
The window getting small
Platform nine goes quiet now
Just a father standing there
Watching the last car disappear
Into the evening air