Verse 1

Black, stale bread is split with a blunt old knife,

My eyes are fixed on a blurry line of sky.

Rain falls silent straight from the ceiling high,

A scrolling headline ends where a book is tied.

Chorus

Strangers’ love sets the cities on fire,

The twisted path is tightening like a wire.

When every road leads to nowhere at all,

It’s time to come home, hear the final call.

(Instrumental bridge)

Verse 2

The platform is crowded with a restless swarm,

And a boy behind the glass waves a tiny arm.

Every fate is somehow tangled in mine,

And the house torn down still lives in my mind.

Chorus

Strangers’ love sets the cities on fire,

The twisted path is tightening like a wire.

When every road leads to nowhere at all,

It’s time to come home, hear the final call.