Lyrics The Motorist - Nation of Language

The Motorist

I lock the door, adjust my seat
And think on distant friends
When they were mine and I was theirs
All lying end to end
But if I try to fall asleep
Could I even pretend?
‘Cause in my eyes there’s nothing else
But this space
And that’s it
They walk
Concrete
Manic in the way
They walk
Beside me
I’ll never get an answer now
Turn the pages
Try to find another way
The sun is low, I watch them move
Drifting scene to scene
The basic plot is lost on me
But all the shots are clean
And it’s my intention to find redemption
But elusive it proves to be
So my love, keep me close tonight
They walk
Concrete
Manic in the way
They walk
Beside me
I’ll never get an answer now
Turn the pages
Try to find another way