Skip to content

The Lithgow Night Express

Words and Music by Ben Scott © 2010

She peers with cupped hands through dirty glass
And flying like the wind are the weeds and grass
Last rays light sandstone worlds to the west
Of the green vinyl seats of the Lithgow night express

And the brakes are screeching like a banshee in the night
There's a drunken ranting coming from a stairwell somewhere
And in her mind she's far away in a frosty mountain nest
Flying far away from the Lithgow night express

And everybody has an irritating ring tone
They're saying 'hi honey, how are you its me I'm on the train'
You could drink 50 bottles and still not find rest
On the green vinyl seats of the Lithgow night express

And every passing soul has made his or her mark
A discarded chocolate wrapper or a spray can in the dark
And in the darkest moments they might plunge a blade into the depths
Of those green vinyl seats

There's people playing cards, throwing punches, seeing stars
Laughing, drinking, smoking pot, farting, doing God knows what
Those seats have seen abuse from mistimed love or misplaced passion
They've been around for so damn long the decor's almost back in fashion
Those brakes they make a howling that'd chill you to your strides
I only hope they bloody work when we go down the other side

The Lithgow night express, you know it ain't no express
Its a three hour ride from the city at best
People have been born and have taken their last breath
On those green vinyl seats

And they're shooting the breeze on the blower home
And laughter filters through the floor like voices from a tomb
You could drink 50 bottles and still not find rest
On the green vinyl seats of the Lithgow night express

La la la la....
No comments yet

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.