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