(Sullivan/M Dean/Monger) 2019
I drove you South through the landscape that you love, all those medieval towns with the cobbled stones washed by the blood of the martyrs in the last great stand of the true believers
The hilltop villages baking in the afternoon sun, the walls pocked with old bullet holes and the stone and iron that broke the people’s backs all laid out for the tourists
I’ve always considered it best never to disturb ghosts but it seems that women always want to go straight to the heart of things and, as you told me so many times, you have your reasons
And the roads are like the lines in the palm of my hand
Wearing deeper and dividing
And for 3am confessions the safest place that I know
Is here between departing and arriving – but never arriving
There was that club we used to go to way out by the park where the music was loud and the corners were dark and we’d sit in those corners like some kind of witches’ coven
We were so young and brave, always looking for trouble, it’s easy to find it when you’re looking for trouble, we’d take on all-comers and when no more would come we’d take on each other
So when that phone call came I wasn’t really so surprised, I set off with good intentions but soon I was lost and the signs were all graffitied out and the compass needle spinning and spinning
And the roads are like the lines in the palm of my hand
Wearing deeper and dividing
And for 3am confessions the safest place that I know
Is here between departing and arriving – but never arriving
And now I ‘ve seen the very worst that you can be
And you’d have been witness to the same of me
Somehow by now it should easy to forgive everything that happened
Back on the roads that are like the lines in the palms of our hands
Wearing deeper and dividing
And for cowards like me, the safest place that we know br /> Is here between departing and arriving – but never arriving
Published by PRS/MCPS
