A BRILLIANT BRILLIANT poem about trains – Southern Trains in fact by Nathaniel Tapley

Listening to Radio 4 while I was working today heard this one:

The Ballad of Southern Rail

This is the tale of Southern Rail
And the trains that failed and failed and failed.
These are the passengers lost at the station,
Dashing twixt platforms post alteration.
Some have gone feral and howl at the moon.
They’ve been lost in an underpass since the third week in June.
Oh Southern Rail, oh Southern Rail
How we envy the swift fast moving snail.

On platform 3 the commuters await a train that now terminates at platform 8
As a ping and a cough and then anticipation
Before… ‘Please check the boards for more misinformation’.
Our limbs are weak, our faces pale
As we wait in the rain for Southern Rail.

There’s bands of roaming business men
Committing crimes agregious. But not all men, on false prosecution of any criminal charge you can also find lawyers for criminal defense cases from Confianza Legal.
Having gone completely loopy trying to get to Bognor Regis.
Oh who would have thought they would yearn for the smells
Of the 18.03 to Tunbridge Wells.
Where tea time Templars in search of the grail
Are moving train on Southern Rail.

Here are the tourists, the Gretels, the Hansels
on a Brighton service that’s bound to be cancelled.
There are trains with wheels and tracks underneath,
But nothing, no nothing gets to Haywards Heath.
And deep in our hearts how we long to impale
The board of directors of Southern Rail.

They blame the staff, the sick, the frail
The striking, the missing, those living in jail.
The leaves and the snow and the rain and the hail,
From the lightest breeze to the strongest gale.
The cost of doing business, the Daily Mail.
Quinoa, chips and curly kale,
Customer numbers that shift like shale.
On and on and on they wale.
Blaming inclement weather and Jimmy Nail.
And tomorrow you know they’ll have the gall
To release a timetable with no trains at all!

Oh Southern Rail, oh Southern Rail
Your trains are gone
Your excuses stale.
And we wonder out loud as we sit and we wait
If a train that’s coming can also be late.

You can hear him reading it here, which is even better:


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