Third-Class ticket in his pocket

Punching out the shadows underneath the sockets

Tweed coat turned up against the fog



Slow coaches rolling o'er the moor

Between the very memory

And approaches of war



Stale bread curling on a luncheon counter

Loose change lonely, not the right amount



Forgotten Man of an indifferent nation

Waiting on a platform at a Lancashire station

Somebody's calling you again

The sky is falling

Jimmie's standing in the rain



Nobody wants to buy a counterfeited prairie lullaby in a colliery town

A hip flask and fumbled skein with some stagedoor Josephine is all he'll get now

Eyes going in and out of focus

Mild and bitter from tuberculosis



Forgotten Man

Indifferent nation

Waiting on a platform at a Lancashire station

Somebody's calling you again

The sky is falling

Jimmie's standing in the rain



Her soft breath was gentle on his neck

If he could choose the time to die

Then he would come and go like this

Underneath a painted sky



She woke up and called him "Charlie" by mistake

And then in shame began to cry

Tarnished silver band peals off a phrase

And then warms their hands around the brazier



Forgotten Man

Indifferent nation

Waiting on a platform at a Lancashire station

Somebody's calling you again

It's finally dawning

Jimmie's standing in the rain



Brilliantine glistening

Your soft plaintive whistling

And your wan wandering smile



Died down at The Hippodrome

Now you're walking off to jeers, the lonely sound of jingling spurs, the "toodle-oos" and "Oh, my dears" down at "The Argyle"



Vile vaudevillians applaud sobriety

There's no place for a half-cut cowboy in polite society



Forgotten Man

Indifferent nation

Waiting on a platform at a Lancashire station

Somebody's calling you again

It's finally dawning

Jimmie's standing in the rain