Rome

This train doesn't go where I want to go,
The map doesn't say where I'm from,
The ads that are selling all these budget flights to Rome,
Don't know what is there yet to come.

Backstage, we know more than we used to,
About all the heroes we love,
We talked about things we were pressured to do,
But it's my free will that chooses to love you,

I don't mind,
Every time,
You speak in a language you barely understand,
Just to learn about life,
In clumsy ways that could lead to our demise

This train doesn't know where we want to live,
It knows that we're far from where we came,
We stopped at a farm where we didn't want to be,
But we made some good friends anyway,

Old age chases all and knows no one it can spare
In pinky swears, we've chosen to care,
The darkest of stories will wait on us you see,
We'll have dinner, we will pay, but never leave.

It's your smile,
Every line,
They speak in a language that doesn't seem to end
Like a book about time,
Convincing us that everything is fine.


This train doesn't let us bring our pet inside,
Unless we were different or blind,
To people who don't want to look into our eyes,
It's fine, we'll just walk instead, this time.

Barely waged, not too late,
I try not to break my back for a boss I tolerate,
Just to be, home with you,
We'll have fun having nothing much to do.

It's the wine,
Maybe nine,
For dreams to be real as the time we both cried,
When your favourite uncle died
After telling us we'll never be alive.


For dreams, for dreams, for dreams,
Are alright
I'm just tired of things fading when I open my eyes.
There's the flower that I gave when we first said goodbye
Both our phones are now dead, so no pictures tonight.