Chairman Pip's Railway Thoughts

Give my regards

Posted in Commuter, London, Other general stuff about railways by Chairman Pip on 18 August 2012

People walk by, they pay no attention
It’s all just steel and glass to them
There’s nothing about to tell them
That once a mighty railway station was here

“…once a mighty railway station was here”

I ponder on my fate, thinking on what I once was
A heart, a hub, a route to the centre
From north, and west, and east people came
Passing through the barriers to everywhere

“…a heart, a hub, a route to the centre”

Where did the trains go?
They were all taken away; I was an undeeded relic
Once a minute they used to depart
Moving people to their business, wherever it was

“…they were all taken away, I was an unneeded relic”

My life was over long before the end
Diversions and disconnections took the trains away
I was still there, a looming presence on the cityscape
It’s just that no one came through any more

“…it’s just that no one came through any more

A star came to me once, close to the end
He gave me his regards, he gave me a last hurrah
To sing that there would be no more lonely nights
To think of what could, what should, what might have been

“…he gave me his regards, he gave me a last hurrah”

They disconnected me bit by bit
Like quicksand, I disappeared so slowly
My arteries and veins all gone, all but one
A last lifeline to keep me alive

“…my arteries and veins all gone, all but one”

I was taken away a piece at a time
There one night, and gone the next
One tiny fragment remaining to link me to the outside
All gone, almost all of the trains

“…one tiny fragment remaining to link me to the outside”

Just like quicksand, like muddy marshy swamp
A solitary limb remains on the surface after the body is gone
A defiant fist, a finger to the world
That wants to abandon me to oblivion

“…a defiant fist, a finger to the world”

Faded bits of me are left now, just a few
Tubes on a bridge, railway arches with no railway
A buttress here, a piece of viaduct there
That people can’t see, or don’t see, to say I was here

“…a buttress here, a piece of viaduct there”

Encased in my tomb of steel and concrete, I can still hear them
The trains that were my lifeblood,in and out of those next door
Along the viaduct that brought them to me
I hear them and I think “why me, why was I forgotten?”

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One Response

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  1. Claire said, on 28 January 2013 at 5:26 am

    I know I’m getting on for 6 months late but, aww, this is really moving. I think writing in the first person and as the station is what really does it. I never knew Broad Street and don’t know much about it but I still find this very touching so I can only imagine how it would touch a railway enthusiast. You should think about trying to get this published in something.


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