TRAIN #3
She's chatting matters vile,
I'm sitting spitting bile.
I become insanely riled
Every time she hits redial.
Retells her night out on the tiles
For mile after fucking mile.
And aye okay, you've made a pile
But money can't buy class or style.
Can you shut your yap a while?
Get off your bastard mobile.
TRAIN #4
He's shouting at a phone
Like he was all alone.
A collective carriage groan
As he dominates the zone.
There's bother back at home,
His Mrs has a moan.
How I wish that I could roam
Far from him and his ringtone,
Coz my head's completely blown.
Get off the fucking dog and bone.
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