ALANCAD

When Beeching closed the line.

The Millennium Special steams down the track
‘Clakety clink, clikerty clak’
We thought that the trains would never come back
when Beeching closed the line.

I remember back in fifty four
the trains rattled right past Grandma’s door
as they’d done for a hundred years or more
until Beeching closed the line.

I used to travel to school by train
come sunshine, hail, snow, wind or rain
we were slowed by fog — but they’d never complain
of leaves upon the line.

Behind the school was a rusty gate
where at playtime we lads would stand and wait 
to spot soot blackened locos hauling freight
until Beeching closed the line.

and there was a little shunter
known to us as ‘Old Groan and Grunter’
for hours through the sidings it used to chunter
as it shuffled the trucks into line.

I well recall those wintry days -
of steam when, screeching through the haze
emerged an express and we’d stand and gaze
as it rushed past down the line.

Then the teenage holiday camp romance
we’d snogged for hours at the ‘Last Night Dance’
She said she would write but you knew ‘fat chance’
as you waved her ‘Goodbye’ down the line.

By the end of the fifties many trains were a joke,
they were rusty and sooty and phew! how they’d smoke
just crossing the footbridge made everyone choke
as the train passed below down the line.

The bridge has now gone that once spanned the lane,
we’d shelter beneath it from wind and rain
no train will pass that way again
since Beeching closed the line.

There’s a bank by the graveyard behind the church
where rickety carriages used to lurch,
it’s now a thicket of oak and birch
since Beeching closed the line.

There’s a signal gantry, it’s overgrown
and a signal box which stands alone-
on an incline, where heavy goods would groan
until Beeching closed the line.

The marshalling yard, where in days of yore -
the trucks would be shunted, has gone before -
the bulldozers plough for a super store
since Beeching closed the line.

The station and platform once was bustle and hustle
with Gents in frock coats and Ladies in bustles
and a girl with a stall selling cockles and mussels
back in Victorian times.

Twice in its lifetime our dear little station
has seen local folk off to fight for our Nation,
then Beeching showed them his gratification
by closing down the line.

The station’s still there and it’s being restored,
it’s got a new roof and has just been re-floored,
there is even a spartan timetable board
since they started restoring the line.

The friends of the railway, in their task will not slack,
at the weekends they’re laying a few yards of track,
what Beeching destroyed they are now putting back!
Since restorers took over the line.

There’s a loco in steam and a small diesel shunter
and a restaurant car for the discerning punter,
the Station Master is checking his hunter
to ensure that the train leaves on time.

The train's in the station, the bunting is out’
the whistle is blowing and kids start to shout,
there’s an air of excitement, the driver looks out -
as the train rumbles off down the line.

Just half a mile down, then reverse back again.
Who cares? we are riding our very own train,
no one ever thought we would do that again
when Beeching closed the line.

The same thing is happening all over the land,
local transport societies are making a stand,
if steam’s in your blood come and give us a hand
to help maintain the line -

for there’s something about the sound and the smell
of a steam driven loco when it’s running well,
and so Doctor Beeching can go to -
Oh well, it don’t matter now we’ve got the line!