Steel wheels rolling round that curve,
Foot steps echo on the tiles.
Your camera don't know how to blink,
so you miss it when heaven rolls by.
I wish I could take you down there, babe,
to hear your boots echo on the platform.
Wish I could spin you,
waltz you and twirl you,
But we were both already ghosts.
And the platform is empty,
but you and I are hiding
on the stairway
where no one can see us.
And your long white skirt billows,
and the ghost light is glinting
on the lightning flash
deep in your eyes.
And the sun is rising,
while the light is melting,
and the glass is burning
in the sky light.
In the skylight.
Good morning.
