I was alone, and my train was late that night

I saw a crumpled man blinded by the life that he treated himself to

Crippled from the nights receiving endless beatings that even a house couldn't endure

Palms raised skyward, his meager belongings collected on the floor singing songs to no one about nothing

But crying because they mean so much

It's these babblings that keep his life going

Keep the nickels flowing deep into his cup

There we both were framed in awkward silence

And I was in his living room invading his trust

He finally said to me that he had one last cigarette to smoke and it was time to give it up

But he laughed and added said he wasn't sure which to give up his life or the habit

He said it's my habits that made my fingers weak

When my chances came I couldn't grab it

But it's my life that makes it hard

And when my opportunities were there for free I chose my habits

I half smiled and offered the most empathetic nod that I could conjure up

And said I hear you brother I've got problems too, but words won't fill your cup

I've got responsibilities to face and they're woven tight to my dreams

I've got more bills to pay than I have time and I'm starting to rip at the seams

I've got a plan and I know that if I stick to it I can accomplish happiness

I've got goals that beat my will and lately it's been hard to accept the challenge

And he said, hey man sounds like that's God talking to you

And I don't know why you can't see

You're so blind that you can't spare to make change

Because all your focus is on "ME"

All wrapped up in your own skin

That you can't help set an old man free

I've been in your shoes before

It feels like it was yesterday if not at all

My existence has been a blink

And for the life of me I can't remember what I saw

That made so much sense to me

Even though I convinced myself that he was totally insane

I bent over and lit his cigarette and told him to mind his own business

Because I was just waiting for my train

And he said, I've been waiting here forever just dying in my skin

And the only reason your living life is because your curious what'll happen in the end

That might be true but why should I pay my hard earned attention to vagabond doctrine

If you've got so much knowledge to give why not treat yourself to what you're offering

You probably have lived a hard life, and I apologize

But I have my own problems, that you couldn't understand just like a lot of guys

Now, here's a couple bucks go buy yourself whatever makes you happy

Even though I've promised myself to not to pay for you to make my city look trashy

He refused the money and sat there singing songs of love and hate

I crammed the change in my pocket, called him a lunatic and went on with my wait

As I stood there hovering near his tiny frame I could feel his eyes judging me sadly

It's as if he had to convince me that my life was on the wrong track, and I needed it badly

And I said hey old man your cigarettes all smoked up it's time for you to leave

He looked at the trail of ash on his shirt and smiled as if it gave him some sort of relief

He propped himself up, collected his life and got prepared to become one with the night

Before he left he turned around and wished me luck with all my plans

And said something about learning to walk before I ran

Before I knew it he was out of my sight, and I had already forgotten his reasonings

I could hear my train coming and home was on my mind not his cryptic meanings

And then another traveler was on the platform and for some reason he was running towards me

All I could see was his eyes, but it's his words that will always stick with me

Through his heavy breaths he asked if I had just spent time with the old man

I nodded in affirmation and tried to calm him, so he could tell me why he ran

And he said, hey man, that was God talking to you

How could you not see?

That was God talking right to your face trying to hand you the keys

He was right here and I can't understand why you chose to make him leave

He just died in my arms right outside the station and said you were his only friend

He begged me to tell you about his life, make you see the light, give you your chance again

I cringed at the reality that was facing me

I told the man I had no time for this and on my way I had to be

Right about that time my train pulled up and I made my escape

I sat in the empty plastic seat, and held tight to my fate

That was decades ago, and now I sit singing on my own platform

My belongings stowed tightly in my bags handing out my sad sad songs

And I say it's my habits that make my fingers weak

When my chances come I can't grab them

But it's my life that makes it hard

And when my opportunities are there for free I choose my habits

I have no responsibilities and as a result I no longer need my dreams

I don't have any bills to pay it's like I'm free but I'm really in captivity

I don't have any plans except to just sit here and try and weather the storm

I wish I had goals but if I had those then I wouldn't be here warning you on my platform

Singing train songs