The four o'clock to London

The four o'clock to London

The four o'clock to London, platform one:
the train to take me home in time for bed.
I'm leaving soon, and nothing can be done
except: I cannot change what's in my head.

And here is where I stand and think of you,
and here is where I'd rather spend the night,
but home is bright and warm and friends are true,
the ticket in my hand will prove me right.

But home is far and now it's getting late
and here is where I know I shouldn't stay.
The four o'clock to London didn't wait,
alone on platform one I watch it go.
What difference does it make? Just one more day.
What difference would it make? I'll never know.