Still I see you, in the doorway
The carpet held your eyes, you whispered goodnight
Sunday morning, like a ghost town
Apartment six is dry, what you meant was goodbye
You left, looking for yourself, and all that you can’t find
In the empty rooms you wander through inside
However long you take, Just know when you arrive
I’ll be waiting, somewhere between 7 and 5
Every Tuesday, there’s a postcard
Scenic views disguise, the words you don’t write
One in Paris, two in Norway
London looked divine, in the tear stains you provide
In the tears you cry
You left me this message yesterday evening
Gate number six at six o’five, could I be there in time
by:Jheymes