In an empty railway town we are waiting for the sound when the cars pull tight and it echoes down the line. I thought we made a plan, just you and me and them - but we're waiting for a time that never will arrive. Late, lost, on the steps at Gaspar Cross.
We set out with the goods but there were witches in the woods. As day turned night we watched them all take flight and force us back to camp, to wait in dark and damp - to wait in damp and dark, where victory's a park. Late, lost, on the steps at Gaspar Cross.