| By the time you get this message I will be behind the wheel
|
| Watching diamond yellow hexagrams stretch into the dark
|
| Left hand surfing on ice-tinged winds
|
| Chewing up a cardboard box
|
| Singing at lung top, one stop left
|
| 'Til I meet you in the concourse
|
| St. Louis encore, do we have a shot?
|
| Caught, no dwelling on the thought
|
| Of what the hell we haven’t got
|
| So I’m headed from the dot
|
| To the spot where your plane touches down
|
| For a six-hour layover, don’t say a word
|
| I found it on a map, calculated it
|
| Just a half a day to get
|
| From where you’re not to where you will be
|
| My hair is filthy, I’m breathing coffee
|
| I can barely feel the trace
|
| From the only time you kissed me on the face
|
| Question mark, Space
|
| I know you’re with me underneath the star scape
|
| Treadmill, pick up our, pace
|
| Head start on a jet, in a car chase
|
| Is this the part where my heart breaks?
|
| Wanna sleep, wanna wait, back-to-back
|
| Cause you wouldn’t turn towards me
|
| Had me battling fractals, keeping track of all the chords
|
| We created sound, clash of swords, back and forth
|
| Couldn’t poke through the sash; |
| slash through the plasterboard
|
| You packing your passport, me on a crash course
|
| To show you that I have the passion that you asked for
|
| Flooring the gas, trying to fast forward fifteen months
|
| I’ll see you once the sun shines through the glass above the dashboard
|
| The stars I see aren’t even there
|
| It’s only light in the air
|
| (By the time you get this message)
|
| The stars I see aren’t even there
|
| (By the time you get this message)
|
| It’s only light in the air
|
| By the time you get this message I’ll be
|
| Either on my second flight or already all the
|
| Way to my destination
|
| Ridiculous that I could honestly expect you waiting
|
| At the gate when I arrive; |
| a sixteen hour drive
|
| I’ve been feeling so silly going on now several months
|
| As our obsession runs together
|
| And whoever comes to have you I’ll be jealous of
|
| And when above all else you put her I’ll know what it was
|
| To feel so needed
|
| Sort of wish that I was more of a romantic
|
| And could give you back the utmost
|
| But I’ve never seen it up close
|
| From everything that I can tell
|
| There are several possibilities
|
| Maybe we’re in love
|
| Maybe it’s too early to really see
|
| Maybe we’re just searching for something to hold on to
|
| In this confusion and fragility
|
| Maybe we’ve lost all sensibility
|
| Will it become our 'Splendor in the Grass'?
|
| When the facts have asserted themselves
|
| And the memories pass into poetry and words that we tell
|
| What only then can we be sure that we felt
|
| Guess I prefer to be unhappy
|
| Or weren’t you looking at me when my back became a wall?
|
| Searched for your reflection, saw exactly what you saw
|
| Two kinds of different skin, Two minds exist within
|
| Trying to just transcend all space and time and lift their chin
|
| And find some sense of purpose, some sense of hope
|
| Press my cheek against the window surface
|
| We’ve been afloat
|
| But now I’m nervous, has this been a joke?
|
| We’re landing and it’s time
|
| To close the envelope
|
| Maybe I’ll see you at the finish line
|
| The stars I see aren’t even there
|
| It’s only light in the air
|
| (By the time you get this message)
|
| The stars I see aren’t even there
|
| It’s only light in the air
|
| (By the time you get this message)
|
| (By the time you get this message)
|
| The stars I see aren’t even there
|
| It’s only light in the air
|
| By the time you get this message
|
| By the time you get this message
|
| By the time you get this message
|
| By the time you get this message |