Part of the Scenery

It starts off in the misty morning

Fog is hanging low

The city is as quiet as a ghost

Fire up the old steam engine

I pop my head outside

No passengers, not one, who needs a ride

And all along ‘til the clock strikes 3

I’m just a part of the scenery

Who’s gonna carry me when I’ve carried you across the sea for the last time, sweet love of mine?

Well I know these waters well enough by now

Like the back of my hand

I’ve been doing this since I can’t remember when

Back and forth between the same two ports

Almost every day

Through the storms and through the ash and clay