They sat in their line
Blue chairs , metal flaking
Metro station with their wine
Fingers puffed and aching
Sat next to the exit sign
Drunk beyond pain and faking
Pool of wine pool of piss
Away from life's pain
Lost in their alcoholic mist
All day drink,drunk in vain
They know nothing's list
Nothing to lose, lots to gain?
Still there when we come back.
Sat in the chairs, eyes shut
Hunched far away from lack?
Wine spilled , wine glut
Drunk so much they hack
And curse at the track.
Trains goes by, people get on , off
Not looking at those men, knuckles clenched
They've been there so long ,they dont give a toss
And life's game passes by , from grip's wrenched
Hard drugs or soft , they'll gather their moss
Stinking and sinking thirst never quenched
Those ghosts on metros benched.