Traveling Song

As I left her lying there in the bed where I sleep
Lying like an empty balloon in the quiet of fleeting dreams
There's a funny thing about movin' around
And always having to leave
I know just where I'm going to, not where I'm gonna be

Will she meet me there, will I even care when time has numbed us both
Sitting in a six-hour flight who knows where your thoughts will go
There's a funny thing about leaving town
Surrounded but dead alone
There's plenty of time inside your mind but no way to let her know

You know I like listening to real sad songs
I force my ears to admit that there's something wrong
From the private of my elbow room
I request an apple juice
And convince myself that my home will never change

As the lights of New York bring popping to my ears
I've begun to like my seat belt and my knees upon my chest
There's comfort in the side of a stranger's face
Yes there's closure in her kiss I cannot taste
There is fear for the bonds I cannot break



Credits
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