12:26 to Blackpool North
22 minutes of solitary thought
Trying my best not to get caught
Up in these things, ideas and dreams
Kirkham and Wesham slip out of sight
The couple beside me, watching me write
Tourists and teenagers headed for Saturday night
While I sit here with nothing but fears to fight
Scared of staying still
Feeling trapped in my own skin
Though I’m longing to begin, I’ll stalling
Scared of moving on
It’s like I don’t know what I want
I’m afraid of what’s the come
Train now arriving, Poulton-le-Fylde
Pushing past people like some impatient child
‘Cause I’m feeling too stormy for weather so mild
My spirit is willing, but my flesh is wild
Scared of staying still
Feeling trapped in my own skin
Though I’m longing to begin, I’ll stalling
Scared of moving on
It’s like I don’t know what I want
Hiding here behind a song
Yeah, I’m sick of staying still…
And I’m scared of moving on
It’s like I don’t know what I want
I’m afraid of what’s to come
No, I don’t know what I want
I’m afraid of what’s to come
No, I don’t know what I want
I’m afraid of what’s to come…
© Caryl Archer