|
lying in an empty room |
|
sunlight breaking through the blinds |
|
shadows in venetian lines |
|
longing is a state of mind |
|
for home |
|
and I don't where you are, I don't where you are, I don't where you are, I don't where you are |
|
another memory that I refuse to follow |
|
brings itself out of the dark |
|
disappears just like the last |
|
another shiver from the past |
|
is gone |
|
and I don't where you are, I don't where you are, I don't where you are, I don't where you are |
|
london, pretty and dark |
|
new york, maybe central park |
|
tokyo, neon and flash |
|
berlin, baby, dressed in black |
|
eastbound and westbound across |
|
this world you go |
|
to be lost |
|
I thought I might have made it out to see you |
|
ride in on a midnight bus |
|
or on a plane against the dusk |
|
but I don't like to travel much |
|
from home |
|
and I don't where you are, I don't where you are, I don't where you are, I don't where you are |
|
London, pretty and dark |
|
new York, maybe central park |
|
Tokyo, neon and flash |
|
Berlin, baby, dressed in black |
|
eastbbound and westbound across |
|
this world we go |
|
to be lost |
