I think I missed the passing of the train
to drop money in an old beggar's hand
but then again, good deeds all go in vain

Swift steps, like smoke, headlights fade through the rain
and once again, my eyes see the world bland
I think I missed the passing of the train

An hour flies by and yet I remain
Through the frozen downpour, I must withstand
But then again, good deeds all go in vain

And soon my frozen fingers scream in pain
while I am reminded that beforehand
that I had missed the passing of the train

My mind demands what I cannot obtain
tired and lonely, life isn't so grand
I wonder if all good deeds go in vain

Surely because I never would complain
Then why is a caring nature quite off-hand?
I think I missed the passing of the train
to do a good deed that was all in vain