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All the way home we felt we had a chance |
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To review the coulds before we were born |
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And to invite a new game of can'ts |
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Absorbed in the clouds a voice from afar said |
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"With the right device you can make a pattern grow |
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Or you can tune up your car |
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So, we stayed on the train admiring the time |
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As the lights of the city drew near |
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We drank a little wine |
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They were blurry and green outer space in between |
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With a depth and a form unclear |
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Then we saw it up ahead |
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A flickering lantern lit up on the tracks |
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In the rugs that had covered up the bridge |
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From the banks of a river to the bed |
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Of the valley upstream to the place we live |
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The glass on the lantern cast back the sight |
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Of a drive-in movie we drove by below |
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We saw where we'd been in the pictures within |
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Projecting all the places we would go |
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So we follow the scene and flowed up your steps |
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To a smooth wooden floor in a trance |
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The train whistle melody woved through the trees |
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And in through the door to signal the turns of a dance |
