Is there something in the fact that I,
When choosing how to travel, choose a train,
And every time I do, I can be found,
Facing where I've been not where I'm bound?
Always facing where I've been before,
It means I've got my back to journey's end,
It sets me once again, against the fear,
That maybe there's a deeper issue here.
I've had so many heart full, joyful days,
And often find the time to go back where,
Everything was perfect in my hide,
And everyone I loved was still alive.
That doesn't mean that I'm unhappy now,
With so much love around me, there's no void,
It's just that there's a sense of being exposed,
When once upon a time I was enclosed,
In someone else's arms while all around,
The wind and rain I heard but never felt,
And now I hear and see and feel it all,
While someone else gets shelter, someone small.
I guess that's it. It's adulthood for me,
That sense of being the windbreak, making calm,
For others to enjoy while in my head,
The roaring of the wind brings back the dead.
So travelling backwards on the train is just,
A holiday from being a man, a dad,
A husband and a friend, from being me,
And someone comes along and brings me tea.