歌手:Catching Flies
专辑:《Tides》

作词 : George King
作曲 : George King
Funny how it's panned out and no one’s smiling,
Dialled her number, beeps on the line, then just silence…
We said goodbye in the dust rising,
Crying, she sung like unstrung violins that time went,
Rowing boats sinking in the ocean,
Is the room shrinking or am I growing?
Eyes closing,
Projections in my mind like stars on the night sky, studding out her face fading…
And I'm weary of walking these same pavements,
Strange day dreams, head floating with space stations,
The last phone call’s atmosphere,
A cold winter’s day, sky azure and clear,
"Meet me, we should talk,"
Her voice strained, the air weighed heavy on me as I walked,
To her… no words left,
I essed, really nothing more was to be said,
Sun setting blood amber, I stepped on my route home,
Confused, to roll zoots and booze brews alone,
‘Til my fuse had blown,
Feverish…