In Glasgow
all the coffee-shops close at five.
And the weary workers-
the cumbersome commuters-
hop the trains home to suburbia.
In Glasgow
the city is empty by half-five.
The occasional penguin-footed businessman runs by-
"late again, the missus'll have me!"
In Glasgow, the station is full to the brim at half-six,
Pulling away in a hot-sauna car,
and the city whispers to itself,
"alone at last."
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