Yr Loved

Snaking thru the station crowds on 2 hours sleep feels like ghosting.
Feels like Christmas and sometimes it is.
And the snow hangs static.

Some nights I feel like Roger Peterson seeing the mountain.
I?ve got the yoke in my hands and I can't change anything.

You are the colour of a great ending.
You are the colour of a great ending.

These reruns start again;
Some nights I feel like the mountain and you are the plane.
Tracing lazy flight paths with my fingers on the window and waiting,
I see yr house from the clouds and I wouldn?t change anything.

You are the colour of a great ending.
You are the colour of a great ending.
You are the colour of a great ending.
You are the colour of a great ending and I?m coming home.