When you stand at the window
Can you feel what you see moving there?
A cold snow blowing in the air
When you lay down beside that one
Can you see what you feel moving there?
One thin thought pressed soft to the skinny wrist
Well you line yourself with some kind of distance
A car
That drives past you in the night
Inside, someone singing your name
When you leave in the morning
You take it all but you leave behind your hair
A soft script left littered everywhere
Well you guard yourself
Against all kinds of drifting
A torn white flag cut loose flaps free in the wind
In a pattern that's saying inside that harm
Is some kind of lifting
A car
You could drive in all through the night
And inside
You are saying a name
You hold close to a name
You hold to that name
But you can't say that name
Well it's a name like: