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Took a walk in Rotterdam, thinking about her train. |
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All along the banls of memory, holding tide away. |
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And on the end of every corner i could almost hear her sound. |
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Time went by in ecstasy, walking next to walls. |
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And the color of the water, was the rails that she was on. |
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And when the whistles blew far away, i felt she knew somehow. |
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For the train often rattles, from the rails shaking ground. |
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I close my eyes and almost hear her now. |
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Took a walk in Rotterdam, dodging spoke and wheel. |
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And a few unnerving riders, agile or insane. |
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And the rest, victims of fashion, lord we're all to blame. |
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Found myself a bar stool, and something on the rocks. |
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I was dreaming I could ride the sun, westward as it dropped. |
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And find her at the station, gracefully rolling a stop. |
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For the train often rattles, from the rails shaking ground. |
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I close my eyes and see her westward bound. |
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Well i'll keep that mind a wandering, of love on the rails. |
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Slow rolling days, steel pushing home. |
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Mile over miles gone in the blink of an eye... |
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For the train often rattles, from the rails shaking ground. |
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I close my eyes and see her westward bound. |
