Third-Class ticket in his pocket Punching out the shadows underneath the sockets Tweed coat turned up against the fog
Slow coaches rolling o'er the moor Between the very memory And approaches of war
Stale bread curling on a luncheon counter Loose change lonely, not the right amount
Forgotten Man of an indifferent nation Waiting on a platform at a Lancashire station Somebody's calling you again The sky is falling Jimmie's standing in the rain
Nobody wants to buy a counterfeited prairie lullaby in a colliery town A hip flask and fumbled skein with some stagedoor Josephine is all he'll get now Eyes going in and out of focus Mild and bitter from tuberculosis
Forgotten Man Indifferent nation Waiting on a platform at a Lancashire station Somebody's calling you again The sky is falling Jimmie's standing in the rain
Her soft breath was gentle on his neck If he could choose the time to die Then he would come and go like this Underneath a painted sky
She woke up and called him "Charlie" by mistake And then in shame began to cry Tarnished silver band peals off a phrase And then warms their hands around the brazier
Forgotten Man Indifferent nation Waiting on a platform at a Lancashire station Somebody's calling you again It's finally dawning Jimmie's standing in the rain
Brilliantine glistening Your soft plaintive whistling And your wan wandering smile
Died down at The Hippodrome Now you're walking off to jeers, the lonely sound of jingling spurs, the "toodle-oos" and "Oh, my dears" down at "The Argyle"
Vile vaudevillians applaud sobriety There's no place for a half-cut cowboy in polite society
Forgotten Man Indifferent nation Waiting on a platform at a Lancashire station Somebody's calling you again It's finally dawning Jimmie's standing in the rain