The sky grows bigger every day
And the other week I hopped on a train
Cutting through state lines
 [bad word] to you as the crow flies
And out there in there offing everything was melon and orange
Did you know, my sweet
That I once took the liberty of watching you in your sleep?
I rolled over and over
Trying to touch your knees underneath the sheets
I just want you to know
that every pool of water reminds me of you
Is that all right?
I hope you think it's cool
'Cause sometimes a train can't go as fast as I want it to
Everything seemed a little easier
when we weren't one hundred miles apart
The person across from me
sitting in her train seat, reminded me of you
And I looked out past her cheeks
through the glass-light conduit
But the sun had sunk already
Disappeared into New Jersey
Oh, why don't they have phones on these things?