| To William Street, the cover read «Love From Gillian»
|
| Go out into the world and write down all your secrets there
|
| Put it down like a heart like a locket
|
| We regret to inform she’s no longer there
|
| Brooklyn very nearly broke them
|
| Thunderbay then onto Waterloo
|
| These people and places are lovely
|
| But none of them felt quite like you
|
| There is a wight
|
| There is a way back home — but it’s crowdd
|
| You can chase every star in the sky
|
| But you cannot hold them
|
| Calling all the angels home
|
| Winnipeg held us in a snowstorm
|
| Ferry ride, rain, Vancouver sent
|
| Mirimachi rhymed itself with Calgary
|
| What we said was not what we meant
|
| There is a weight
|
| There is a way back home — but it’s crowded
|
| You can chase every star in the sky
|
| But you cannot hold them
|
| Calling all the angels home
|
| Brooklyn very nearly broke them
|
| Thunderbay then onto Waterloo
|
| These people and places are just fine things
|
| But none of them are quite like you
|
| To William Street, the cover read; |
| «Love from Gillian»
|
| Go out into the world and write all your secrets there
|
| Put it down like a heart like a locket
|
| We regret to inform she’s no longer there
|
| There is a weight
|
| There is a way back home — But it’s crowded
|
| You can chase every star in the sky
|
| But you cannot hold them
|
| Calling all the angels home |