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It must have been our crooked start that chipped me out of place and that put me on a train to who knows where |
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But looking out the window with the weight of my disgrace |
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Looking for what, I didn't care |
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But the little town was greater and old just like Bethlehem |
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I said, "I'll stop right where I am" |
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Bellingham |
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And standing at the station |
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A stranger in the rain |
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She was calling out a name that wasn't mine |
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She grabbed me by the shoulders |
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And I shuddered in surprise |
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But she seemed to recognize me alright |
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And maybe I believed that she was there looking for me |
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And maybe I just wanted to be found |
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But I didn't try to clarify |
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No, I just let her leave |
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And she closed the trunk and drove me to her house |
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She'd been waiting for so long |
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She said, "Oh, I knew that you would come" |
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But she knows not who I am |
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Bellingham |
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The whole town dreamed of steamer fleets, the sultry August day |
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When the first ship cleared the Panama Canal |
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For the shipping lanes would mend and change their fortunes and their fates |
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Well, I'm glad that they can't see what I see now |
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For there's rubble and driftwood |
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Where they pulled their dimes to pay for the most majestic dock in the Pugid Sound |
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And when they cut the ribbon |
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The county brass band played |
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What a sad moment it seems they struck up now |
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No one ever could say why |
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But oh, the ships just passed on by |
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And they still don't understand |
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And how long did I think I could keep up the masquerade |
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And how much did she know it was a lie |
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When every bond I'd ever made, I'd broken or betrayed |
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What made me think that I could step into a life that wasn't mine? |
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I wrote a note and slipped away |
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It said, "Oh, I just can't explain" |
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But it's all been a show |
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Bellingham |
