Empty Bottles - Ben Watt

Crippled anger from a crippled brain

Crippled footsteps through a crippled train

Bloody head wound leaves a bloody stain

On a raincoat smelling from the rain

Oh, it’s the last train

It’s the last train home

Oh, it’s the last train

It’s the last train home

Knees together, handbag nicely perched

Her dateline boyfriend left her in the lurch

And through the window she keeps her constant stare

Which is funny, because there’s nothing there

Oh, it’s the last train

It’s the last train home

Oh, it’s the last train

It’s the last train home

The carriage lurches like the drunken man

Swaying sideways through the wasteland

While never flinching, the wheels keep tight reign

Like the girl, like the girl staring through the pane

Oh, it’s the last train

It’s the last train home

Oh, it’s the last train

It’s the last train home

Is that any comfort?

Is that any comfort?

Is that any comfort?