Outside a Train roars, the clatter is deafening


Louder than everything, drowns what you were saying


And the Boys get on the back of that train


Their clamour is deafening, It is louder than everything


And they accept no warning


And me in my brilliant red shirt


And my shirt hangs open at the neck


The Train is always passing through


Male passengers turn their heads, following the passage


of a beautiful Ducchess running from carriage to carriage


And it ploughs through the city,everyone rides the Train


It ploughs a primal instinct to rail against better sense


The Train is always passing through


And me in my bloodstained shirt, my body hangs open at the neck


It is always passing through, through me


The bodies on the back of the train they stink of greedy sex


Leave a trail of instinctrosesthings