Spine-tingling railway sleepers ---Sleepy houses lying four-square and firmOrange beams divide the darknessRumbling fit to turn the waking worm.Sliding through Victorian tunnelsWhere green moss oozes from the pores.Dull echoes from the wet embankmentsBattlefield allotments. Fresh open sores.In late night commuter madnessDouble-locked black briefcase on the floorLike a faithful dog with masterSleeping in the draught beside the carriage door.To each Journeyman his own home-comingCold supper nearing with each station stopFrosty flakes on empty platformsFireside slippers waiting. Flip. Flop.Journeyman night-tripping on the late fantasicToo late to stop for tea at Gerard's CrossAnd hear the soft shoes on the footbridge shuffleAs the wheels turn biting on the midnight frost.On the late commuter specialCarriage lights that flicker, fade and dieHowling into hollow blacknessDusky diesel shudders in full cry.Down redundant morning papersAbandon crosswords with a coughStationmaster in his wisdomTold the guard to turn the heating off.
Jethro Tull
| A Passion Play Part 2 | |
| Aqualung | |
| Back Door Angels | |
| Flying Colours |  |
| Jack Frost And The Hooded Crow | |
| Journeyman | |
| Warchild |
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