Well, let me tell you all a story of a man named Charlie on a tragic and fateful day.
He put ten cents in his pocket, kissed his wife and family, went to ride on the M.T.A.
Oh, he never returned. No, he never returned. His fate is still unlearn'd.
He may ride forever 'neath the streets of Boston.
He's a man who never returned.
Charlie handed in his dime at the Kendall Square Station and he changed for Jamaica Plain.
When he got there the conductor told him, "One more nickel." Charlie couldn't get off of that train.
Oh, he never returned. No, he never returned. His fate is still unlearn'd.
He may ride forever 'neath the streets of Boston.
He's a man who never returned.
Now, all night long Charlie rides through the station, crying, "What will become of me?
How can I afford to see my sister in Chelsea or my cousin in Roxbury?"
Oh, he never returned. No, he never returned. His fate is still unlearn'd.
He may ride forever 'neath the streets of Boston.
He's a man who never returned.
Charlie's wife goes down to the Scollay Square Station every day at twelve past two,
And through the open window she hands Charlie a sandwich as the train comes rumblin' through.
Oh, he never returned. No, he never returned. His fate is still unlearn'd.
He may ride forever 'neath the streets of Boston.
He's a man who never returned.
Now, you citizens of Boston, don't you think it's a scandal how the people have to pay and pay?
Fight the fare increase! Vote for George O'Brien! Get poor Charlie off the M.T.A.
Oh, he never returned. No, he never returned. His fate is still unlearn'd.
He may ride forever 'neath the streets of Boston.
He's a man who never returned.
He's a man who never returned.
He's a man who never returned.
