Footprints from the caravan
note in my pocket
And a light in my eyes
Footnotes explaining your feelings
All smudged by the snowflakes
Shaken out of the sky.

There's something in the way
That you float along
Something keeps telling all these lies

I'm sure that [bad word] Cose the engine [bad word] 
I'm answering for her now
I know that she'll be there
She'll be sat on the first stair
With winter across her brow
Across her brow

Tickets from second hand journeys
Early exits
Always walking away.
Pennies spent on yesterday's movies
I was there on the corner
I never saw you again.

There's something in the way
That you float along
Something keeps telling all these lies.

I'm sure that [bad word] Cose the engine [bad word] 
I'm answering for her now
I know that she'll be there
She'll be sat on the first stair
With winter across her brow
Across her brow

Somebody's telling me all these lies 
Somebody's telling me lies  

I'm sure that [bad word] Cose the engine [bad word] 
I'm answering for her now
I know that she'll be there
She'll be sat on the first stair
With winter across her brow
I'm sure that [bad word] Cose the engine [bad word] 
I'm answering for her now
I know that she'll be there...