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Carla, you don't say much |
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About all of the pain that you feel |
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Ships start, arrive late in the night-time, |
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filled with all of the friends that you say that you've known |
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|
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And on the evening of the war, |
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It was not important any more |
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Carla in your night as day |
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Nothing changes anyway |
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And I know what you would say |
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|
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I'm sorry that I'm running from, |
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Something that I used to love, |
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When I was with you |
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Call my name out of a page, |
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Climb aboard another train |
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Every time you do |
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Well I don't know where I have been |
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I don't know where I would like to be going to |
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Keep your eye on the light and it would see you through |
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|
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I live, in the city |
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And I can't find my way out |
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|
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And on the evening of the war, |
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It was not important any more |
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Carla in your night as day |
|
Nothing changes anyway |
|
And I know what you would say |
|
|
|
I'm sorry that I'm running from, |
|
Something that I used to love, |
|
When I was with you |
|
Call my name out of a page, |
|
Climb aboard another train |
|
Every time you do |
|
Well I don't know where I have been |
|
I don't know where I would like to be going to |
|
Keep your eye on the light and it would see you through |
|
|
|
Sorry that I'm running from, |
|
Something that I used to love |
|
When I was with you |
|
Call my name out of a page |
|
Climb aboard another train |
|
Every time you do |
|
Well I don't know where I have been |
|
I don't know where I would like to be going to |
|
Keep your eye on the light and it would see you through |
