on the train

Orange lights and Bus stop signs It's dark outside I smell food Raging minds But their bodies lay so still I can hear your music Through the suit Fingernails are crawling And now a fist is forming In the back of my mind I hear people calling I see fathers stalling They don't want to go home Home Home Contemplating minds Should they be so kind? As to step between This violent scene And tell him to leave her alone Tell him that he's got to go But they all have turned to stone They all have turned to stone