Prospects Lyrics - Keep Moving - Madness

A train ride to Tuesday 

A platform far away 

Scarlet shades of evening 

Move clouds of grey 

Awaking arriving 

The dirty station where 

He passes crowds of people 

Who don't see him there 

Here's a desert island room 

For a man who's cast away 

Stranded in this home from home 

From his family far away 

Home, well this is it 

This is it, is this my heart? 

I miss you with all my heart 

This is not, is this not my home? 

One shoelace, cardboard suitcase 

One passport from the Queen 

One room for a light bulb 

Where no one's been 

Sticks and stones, my old bones 

Not like 1954 

Then they liked me fine 

But not anymore 

This empty room 

Where he's marooned 

With nothing left to say 

But in the dark 

He thinks of home far away 

Home, well this is it 

This is it, is this my heart? 

I miss you with all my heart 

This is not, is this not my home? 

I feel cold getting old 

More than the climate's change 

Stranded on this island 

The rate of exchange 

Here's a desert island room 

For a man who's cast-away 

Today he will not be at work 

There is no work anyway 

How is it when you feel it? 

Do you wonder what gets you down? 

You're looking in the windows 

When you walk this town