I can remember the allotments next to the tracks

The fathers of fathers and their honest sons

Managed our beautiful stations

Which were always clean

Even the halts were visited

And flowers were planted

Women were generally safer travelling

Attacks were rare and the punishments severe

I was brought up next to this station

The railways were in my blood

But you have spoilt it for me

There is a girl in hospital because of you

She is likely to recover but that is not the point

You should have stayed in your black sewer

That was your big mistake

Before you are burnt alive in this tired little hut

I will castrate you with my fathers hunting knife

My name if that is all you want is Linda

Rot in Hell

You black piece of shit