I am looking through a foreign window at a foreign sky
And I can't find a single familiar star
I have traveled all the roads from the east to the west
Looking back only to see my tracks disappear

But if I have a decent pack of cigarettes
then perhaps the night is young and things aren't so bad
And a ticket for the airplane with a silver-tipped wing
leaving nothing but a shadow on the way to the clouds

And no one would ever choose guilt over wine.
And no one is chosen to deal with the heat
Without music, you know, there's no glory in death
without the music you perish in bitter defeat

But if I have a decent pack of cigarettes
then perhaps the night is young and things aren't so bad
And a ticket for the airplane with a silver-tipped wing
leaving nothing but a shadow on the way to the clouds 

I am looking out of someone's window and see someone's sky
I can't see a star that's mine
I roamed the roads back and forth
Having looked back couldn't find footprints on my path.

But if there's a pack of cigarettes in my pocket
Then the day's not all that bad
And a boarding pass to a silver-wing-plane,
That takes off leaving just a shadow behind

Noone wanted to be found guilty without wine,
Noone wanted to pick the coals with bare hands
And death without music is not picturesque,
So I wouldn't want to die without it

But if there's a pack of cigarettes in my pocket
Then the day's not all that bad
And a boarding pass to a silver-wing-plane,
That takes off leaving just a shadow behind