| Nothing exists
|
| Just you and me and hollowness
|
| Walking to the deadline
|
| Nothing is fixed
|
| We swallow words like razorblades
|
| Closer to the deadline
|
| And there’s so much I could say
|
| But it’s too late now we’re running out of time
|
| Between the doorway and the morning train
|
| To dark from the light
|
| Only I could find a way
|
| Only I could guide us
|
| To darkness from the light
|
| Only I could find a way
|
| Only I could guide us
|
| And there’s so much I should say
|
| But it’s no use now we’re running out of time
|
| Between the doorway and the morning train
|
| And there’s so much I’d like to say
|
| But apologies don’t fit the time or place
|
| Between the doorway and the morning train
|
| Now I’m going, now I’m going down the line
|
| Now I’m going, now I’m going down the line
|
| Leaving pain again
|
| And there’s so much I’d like to say
|
| But it’s too late now there isn’t time or space
|
| Between the doorway and the morning train
|
| And there’s so much I’d like to say
|
| But we’re running out of time
|
| And we’re running out of space
|
| And this kiss leaves such a sour aftertaste
|
| Between the platform and the morning train |