[Intro — Station Bell, Rain, Palm-Muted Guitar Gathering Speed]

[Verse 1]
The station clock said one fifty-three;
Rain stitched silver through the street.
I held black coffee, small and sweet,
Your letter folded with the receipt.
Carriage six, a window place,
Seven towns to reach your face.
The board clicked over, line by line;
Your city waited after mine.

[Pre-Chorus]
The speaker called the platform clear.
The crowd filed in between the doors.
The guard raised one hand: “All aboard.”
I counted down and stayed right there.

[Chorus]
The ticket I never used
Still says I could have made it through.
Carriage six, a window view,
Seven towns from me to you.
The train pulled out; I stayed accused
By the ticket I never used.

[Verse 2]
A mother led her sleepy child;
Two soldiers laughed, a young man smiled.
The guard looked twice and raised his hand;
I stared at tracks instead of plans.
The whistle split the rainy air.
I almost ran. I stayed right there.
Red lights dwindled in the rain;
The empty rails went black again.

[Pre-Chorus]
I told myself another train
Would come without that weight of rain.
The next one came. I let it pass.
By dusk, the board had gone to black.

[Chorus]
The ticket I never used
Still says I could have made it through.
Carriage six, a window view,
Seven towns from me to you.
The train pulled out; I stayed accused
By the ticket I never used.

[Guitar Solo — Whistle Motif Over Driving Toms]

[Bridge]
The letter in my pocket said:
“I'm coming back. Don't make the bed.
Leave on the hall light by the stairs.”
I paid the fare and left you there.

[Final Chorus]
The ticket I never used
Has kept the date I can't undo.
Carriage six, the same clear route,
One seat went north; I walked back out.
No storm, no strike, no change of news—
I chose the ticket I never used.

[Outro — Station Ambience, Single Clean Guitar]
The ink is faint, the corners bruised.
Departure: Friday, one fifty-three.
Your city fills the line marked “To.”
Return: a blank beside the fee.