Beacon

At the end of the week

Crammed in commuter trains

Stations go by

But we don't know their names

Our eyes never meet

We flip trough catalogues

Or gape at our feet

To maintain control

And there's a beacon in the middle of the town

And when the power's out it shows the way back home.

The camera shot

All the grins and stares

But when the pictures appeared

There was no-one there

I could hear the sound

Distant and thin

Of our hearts caving in

And at the end of the week

We'll set things on fire

Do you know that thing

Just before you fall asleep

A sudden shock

And the feeling of falling down

It's the ghosts of the past that try to sink their talons in

And drag you back in to the dark.