The pretty ******* the train smiles at me,
But she's uneasy.
She doesn't know about me
or anyone here

The old man with the small reading glasses
reading yesterday's paper
He is merely a background character.

He has his own life outside this moving box
  Just as I work forty hours a week,
and spend all my money on cigarettes

They won't know just by watching me nervously scribble on a napkin
On the 5:15 train
Heading east to god only knows where.