To twist the hours back
To the tick of the station clock
The scream of a whistle
The red of the coal
The acrid taste of the smoke

The train has come
We’ve missed the last
To wait now at the station once more
Coming, going distended in time
Our departure remaining unsure

To twist the hours back
To the tick of my own stop-clock
The scream of a man
The red of the blood
The acrid taste of the smoke

When the journeys were long
And the rattle of the tracks
Filled our ears from miles around
Now the clatter of the gun
As time is undone
The only baggage are men on the ground

To twist the hours back
To a time when things felt real
Hoping and wishing
We count out the names
Of the places we travelled on steel

Of Shildon, Northallerton
Stockton and Tees
Harrogate, Durham and Tyne
We repeat like a mantra
The towns that we went
Just down the railway line

To twist the hours back
To the tick of the station clock
From the trains to the battle
We mark out the history
Of Darlington, out of the smoke