She used to walk with a purpose in her own meandering style
She used to hold her head down while her mind would run for miles
When she would want it, when she would need it
It would all come circle around
Then it would take her, cover and make her
Head sink out of the clouds
If she, could be, the dreams that seem to tether her there
She might, take flight, and find herself swimming though the air
Chorus:
She’ll take the last train to Paris
The first bus out to Saigon
She’ll take the last road to Houston on her own
She’ll take the first plane to nothing
The last trip she will be on
Will be the first path to anywhere to be gone
He would believe he perceived everything just at a glance
He would cover his eyes avoiding circumstance
He would grow weary, tired of merely
Letting chance pass him by
If he could hold it, muddle and mold it
Would make him realize
If He, could see, that life does not rest inside the mire
His mind, could find, the dream, the scheme, unrelenting desire to
Chorus
Then when they met through fumbled regrets finding a hole in their lives
They covered the place through timeless embraces, impenetrable compromise
They would write verses, silently merging
Chords of past memories
They would see hiding, symphonic entwining
Opuses through the trees
When they, would say the words only spoken out in song
They’d find, behind the strings, the harmony where they belonged
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Lyrics submitted by Foo.