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So you watch the sunrise sinking and she's talking in her sleep |
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A dream of how alone she was tomorrow when you keep |
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All those promises to someone in a mirror you will find |
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At your parents' house in 1989 |
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Terrorized |
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By the ruling party, calenders and commas |
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Small request |
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Could we please turn around and around and around? |
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Turn around |
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So you whisper your arrival walking backwards to the door |
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Wonder briefly what it is you're hesitating for |
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All the streets lie down, deserted in the darkest part of night |
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To lead you through the evening to the light |
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Pulled along |
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In the tender grip of watches and ellipses |
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Small request |
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Could we please turn around and around and around? |
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Turn around |
