|
Trains on train tracks |
|
are made to come back |
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from every place that |
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they've ever been |
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a 7:30 |
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a sunday off peak |
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I knew she'd leave me |
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but not like this |
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you know |
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you're the reason |
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that I felt alive out here |
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for so long |
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I've been waiting |
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for my chance to disappear |
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the wooden sleepers |
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the girders lying still |
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are cold reminders |
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of what you had to do |
|
we're not like train tracks |
|
sometimes we have to move |
|
and never come back |
|
despite the things we lose |
|
you know |
|
you're the reason |
|
that I felt alive out here |
|
for so long |
|
I've been waiting |
|
for my chance to disappear |
|
This town |
|
is just a strip of bars |
|
and streets with common names |
|
it's strange |
|
to know you'll watch me |
|
as I slowly pull away |
