No salvation from the longing No excuses to be made Barely waken for a new day He has stepped on the crusade No assurance for the future No redemption from the yearn Deadly sleepless in the airport She is waiting for her turn Thousand miles out, fingers crossing Could she put him out of mind? First for exit hair hangs loosely Rushing outside colorblind He stands perplexed, bell’s still ringing Might have left for a better life Always late for a couple of hours That’s his long-time precious style
Day sloping to the end Everybody’s home making their beds Deep inside the bar Drawing on a drink Failed it at the core He’s the one to blame
Night falling down the streets Everybody’s done doing daily deeds On a desert bridge Grinding out a stub Failed it at the heart She’s the one to blame
Planes flying high above Each one with its path Each one on its strip His – an empty tub Hers – a smoked out pack Thousand miles away Victims of jet lag