Walking by the Station

I'm walking by the station seeing faces I've never seen before Bodies push by my body as my arms reach out to open a door I head down to the subway where two buskers sing in harmony And I go up that green hill to where my soul can breathe The hustle and the bustle of the world that spins around me in the every day Faces, people, words fly by me rushing to the office or the market place I forget to be a free life as the walls high and grey stretch over me Bar rooms and late night talk, we chew the cud until the dawn I stare into the distance where funky stallions keep the pace with the cultures beat There's no gold on these pavements, just chalk marks written on stone That the rain washes away from beneath my feet Time thuds and thuds against my head, I stop and take a deeper breath; Sometimes I wish I was all alone on a desert island far from home I'm walking by the station seeing faces I'll never see again Although some of them could've been enemies many more could've been friends And I walk down the subway and away from the city streets To go up that green hill where my soul can breathe