[Intro: distant approach, the Moscow Russian-accented male MC far down the tunnel, the band small and thin, coming closer] Nu, last train, last shift, last run of the line Davai, watch the doors, I'm closin' up on time [Verse 1: Moscow Russian-accented male MC, the band arriving full size, cold over heavy boom drums] Two a.m. on the old line, I'm the last train rollin' through Eight empty cars behind me and the lamps are flickerin' blue There's a station they closed up before my father drove this run Number Seventeen, no lamps, no name, no benches, none You hit the dark at speed, you count to six, you're out the other side Every driver does it, bratan, nobody looks inside But tonight the lamps were burnin' and the tile was clean and white And the platform full of people in their coats and hats, upright Every face was turned toward me, every hand was holdin' out And my train began to slow before I'd touched the brake, no doubt [Hook: Russian MC, heavy, the balalaika and the boom drums hitting together] Board says not in service, but the platform's full tonight Every hand is holdin' out a token, brass and bright I don't stop at Seventeen, that's the rule since I was young But the brakes went on without me and the doors already swung [Verse 2: Russian MC, closer, the bayan drone rising under every bar] They boarded slow and quiet, every seat and every strap A babushka with a string bag and a soldier with a map A kid in a sailor collar with a token in his teeth Not a word from any of 'em, not a sound from underneath So I get on the radio and say "I stopped at Seventeen" Control goes quiet, long and cold, and asks me what I mean "There's no train on your track," she says, "there's nothin' on my screen Train Nine went out of service on the night they shut Seventeen" And I look down at my dashboard, and the number there is nine Wooden seats and brass handles, and a map without my line [Verse 3: Russian MC, the whole band close and heavy, every hit landing] Davai, I pull her out of there, I'm sweatin' through my shirt Next station's full of livin' folk, a cleaner and a clerk They look right at my windows and they look right through the glass And the board above their heads says Not in Service as I pass Every livin' station that I come to, no one gets on Every dead one that I come to, they been waitin' there so long It ain't the station's haunted, and it ain't the folks inside It's the train, it's always been the train, and I'm the man it hired So I drive her round the old line, eighteen hours, maybe more And I punch their little tokens, and I don't look at the floor [Hook: Russian MC, heavy, everything in] Board says not in service, but the platform's full tonight Every hand is holdin' out a token, brass and bright I don't stop at Seventeen, that's the rule since I was young But the brakes went on without me and the doors already swung [End]
