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