| Casey joins the hollow sound of silent people walking down,
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| The stairway to the subway in the shadows down below.
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| Following their footsteps through the neon-darkened corridors,
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| Of silent desperation, never speaking to a soul.
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| The poison air he’s breathing has the dirty smell of dying,
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| 'Cos it’s never seen the sunshine and it’s never felt the rain.
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| But Casey minds the arrows and ignores the fatal echoes,
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| Of the clicking of the turnstiles and the rattle of his chains.
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| «Oh,» she said: «Casey, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you.
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| «Here,» she said: «just a kiss to make a body smile.
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| «See,» she said: «I've put on new stockings just to please you.
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| «Lord,» she said. |
| «Casey, can you only stay a while.»
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| Casey leaves the underground and stops inside The Golden Crown,
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| For something wet to wipe away the chill that’s on his bones.
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| Seeing his reflection in the lives of all the lonely men,
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| Who reach for anything they can to keep from going home.
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| Standing in the corner, Casey drinks his pint of bitter,
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| Never glancing in the mirror at the people passing by.
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| Then he stumbles as he’s leaving and he wonders if the reason,
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| Is the beer that’s in his belly or the tear that’s in his eye.
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| «Oh,» she said: «I suppose you seldom think about me.
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| «Now,» she said: «now that you’ve a family of your own.
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| «Still,» she said: «It's so blessed good to feel your body.
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| «Lord,» she said: «Casey, it’s a shame to be alone.»
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| Golden Crown, |