The Train

I sit down on the train

with my big pocketbook

the guitar and a sugar-free drink

I wipe the sweat off of my brow

with the side of my arm

and take off all that I can

I am trying not to have a bad day

everybody knows the way that is

Even though my baggage and I

are using up a two person seat

I'm not trying to be funny

but the guy who sits down next to me

is even bigger than that

we are overflowing out of the seat

I can't look at him

he doesn't look at me

Once you step on

you might never get off

of the commuter train

it doesn't go very far away

but just the same

it s a trip and a half

My face is pressed up

against the window

and through it I can see

the reflection of the train

I spy on the big guy

sitting next to me

he's drinking two beers

and reading the New York Post

trying not to get in my way

everybody knows the kind of day that is

He is miserable

I am miserable

we are miserable

can't we have a party

would he rather have a party

after all we have to sit here

and he's even drinking a beer

I want to ask him what's his name

but I can't cause I'm so afraid

of the man on the train