In the stick count for the song
Of knowing you're gone
Glancing up at where you lived
When you lived here
I see you suddenly alive
And nearly smiling
Stop and hold my breath
And watch the way we used to be
The full moon makes our faces shine
Like over-ironed polyester
Then disappears behind the clouds
Leaves me under empty rows of night windows
We could walk to where these streets
Get pulled together
Blinking, lined with gravel
Shoulder squared towards an end
Where the radio resounds
From dappling traffic
Where the power lines steal lessons
From the hourly news
Depluralize our casualties
Drown the generals out in static
We turn and watch our city sprawl
Send us signals in the glow of night windows
Night windows
Night windows
(But you're not coming home again)
Night windows
(And I won't ever get to say)
Night windows
Remember how I'm sorry
(But you're not coming home again)
That I miss the way it could be
(Night windows)
Remember how I'm sorry
(And I won't ever get to say)
That I miss the way it could be
(Night windows)
Night windows
Night windows
© THE WEAKERTHANS;
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