ooking round our Garden Railway
with its buildings, trains and tracking.
Perfect setting, plants all blooming, so
why the feeling something's lacking?

Suddenly our eyes are opened.
Yes, the Railway looks OK.
But lack of lifes the diagnosis.
It needs people straightaway.

So we start frequenting carboots,
opening boxes, search through toys.
Buy some "Gee Bods" by Mail Order.
Find men, women, girls and boys.

Legs and arms are repositioned.
Bodies given coats of paint.
People 'talking', 'walking', 'sitting'.
Grownups stylish, children quaint.

In the 'phone box young man 'phoning.
On the platform children play.
Nanny with a pram and baby
going on a trip today.

Punk, with guitar, entertaining
youngsters sitting on the seat.
A Porter struggles past a small dog
barking, jumping to the beat.

Around the corner out of earshot
two fond lovers kiss farewell.
While in the yard 'Trainspotting' bikers
revel in the sounds and smell.

Travellers are in the Waiting Room
swapping bits of local news.
Tourists arriving from the car-park
hurry to join the ticket queues.

Engine Drivers, Firemen, Gangers,
Goods Yard workers shovelling coals.
By the Lake the Cafe's open
selling butties, cakes and rolls.

So, at the bottom of our garden,
you'll find no fairies down this way.
Just a little peopled Kingdom
Called the CHEQUER .... LIGHT.... RAILWAY................