Prospects By Madness.
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A train ride
Till tuesday
A platform far away
Scarlet shades of evening
Move clouds so grey
The waking
Ariving
The dirty station where
He passes crouds of people
Who Don't see him there
He's a desert island man
A forgien man who's cast away
Stranded in this home from home
>From his family far away
Home
This is it
This is it
Is this my heart
I miss you with all my heart
This is not
Is this not my home
One shoe-laced cardboard suitcase
One passport from he came
One room for a light bulb
Where no one's been
Sticks and stones
My old bones
It's now nineteen fifty-four
When then I could fight
But not any more
The city room
Where is my room
He thinks of home far away
Home
This is it
This is it
Is this my heart
I miss you with all my heart
This is not
Is this not my home
I thik I'm geting old
Well the climate's changed
Stranded on this island
While others change
He's a desert island man
A forgien man who's cast away
Stranded in this home from home
>From his family far away
How is it when you feel it
Do you know what gets you down
You're looking in the windows
When you walk this town
>From the L.P./Cassette "Keep Moving"
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