In a white room, with black curtains, Near the stations, Black roof country, no gold pavements, Tired starlings Silver horses, run down moonbeams, In your dark eyes. Dawn light smiles, on you leaving my contentment.
I'll wait in this place, where the sun never shines. Wait in this place, where the shadows run from themselves. You said no strings could secure you, At the station. Platform ticket, restless diesels, goodbye windows, I walked into such a sadtime at the station, As I walked out felt my own need just beginning.
I'll wait in the queue when the trains come back, I wait for you where the shadows run from themselves.
At the party, she was kindness, In the hard crowd, Consolation from the old wound now forgotten Yellow tiggers crouched in jungles in her dark eyes. She's just dressing good-bye windows, tired starling
I'll sleep in this place with the lonely crowd, Lie in the dark, where the shadows run from themselves.