Well, let me tell you a story about a man named Charlie On a tragic and fateful day. He put ten cents in his pocket, kissed his wife and family. Took a ride on the MTA. Leader: Did he ever return? Audience: No he never returned. Everybody: And his fate is still unlearned (Poor Charlie.) He may ride forever ‘neath the streets of Boston. (CHORUS) He’s the man who never returned. Now Charlie handed in his dime at the Kendall Square Station As he changed for Jamaica Plain. When the conductor got there, he told him one more nickel. Charlie couldn’t get off of that train. Now all night long Charlie rides through the station saying “What will become of me? How can I afford to see my sister in Chelsea Or my cousin in Roxbury?” Now Charlie’s wife goes down to the Scolley Square Station Every day at a quarter past two. Through the open window she hands Charlie a sandwich As the train goes rumbling through. Now all you citizens of Boston, Don’t you think it’s a scandal How you have to pay and pay. Fight the fare increase. Vote for George O’Brien. Get poor Charlie off the MTA.