Bend

歌詞

Rain hit glass, little Morse-code taps Train-line sparks where the north road bends Four missed calls and a voice-note draft All got dates but they don’t make sense Door code changed, had to call downstairs Cold stairwell and fluorescent glare Old man smoking in folding chairs Said, “You look lost” — I said, “Almost there” Low-batt flash with the cracked-up screen Cab drives past, throws red on me Bad sleep pattern, immaculate dream Woke up pissed ’cause it ended clean Cut that phrase, it was far too neat Put one word where it shouldn’t be If everybody lands on beat I want mine where they move their feet Last train gone so I walked instead Half-read text that I left on read Corner shop with the buzzing LEDs Same bloke there, never caught his name Two-pound coin in a broken machine Hit it twice, then it worked for me Got one drink that I didn’t need Just liked how the can hit concrete Grey sky caught in a satellite dish Bird on the wire with a cable twitch Someone upstairs let a bath run long Water came through and distorted the song Now there’s one little stain by the ceiling light Looks like France if I tilt it right Landlord said he’ll be round next week That was three months back — still looks like France Bus-stop glass got a fresh new crack Someone drew round it in permanent black Made it look like a map of somewhere I checked my phone — there’s nothing there Sun comes through but the room stays dim Dust turns gold at the window rim I had one line that explained the whole thing Sounded too good, so I deleted it Rain hit glass, little Morse-code taps Train-line sparks where the north road bends Four missed calls and a voice-note draft All got dates but they don’t make sense Door code changed, had to call downstairs Cold stairwell and fluorescent glare Old man smoking in folding chairs Said, “You look lost” — I said, “Almost there” Same white van on the same side street Engine on but an empty seat Walked past twice in the same damn week Third time round, didn’t bother to peek Cashpoint swallowed a twenty-pound note Man behind said, “That happens, bro” Funny how quick you accept bad news When it’s small enough not to ruin your mood Found my keys in the freezer door Don’t remember putting them there before Kettle clicked at a quarter to four Stood there waiting, forgot what for Mate sent “you good?” with a question mark Typed out “yeah”, then deleted half Left just “y” — looked strange like that So I locked my phone and went for a lap Got home late, heard the upstairs chair Same long scrape, but nobody’s there Waited a minute, it came again Four short drags, then silence again I put four knocks in the next day’s drums Moved one early and muted one Played it back and it sounded wrong Played it twice — now the wrong felt right Rain hit glass, little Morse-code taps Train-line sparks where the north road bends Four missed calls and a voice-note draft All got dates but they don’t make sense Door code changed, had to call downstairs Cold stairwell and fluorescent glare Old man smoking in folding chairs Said, “You look lost” — I said, “Almost there” Funny how choice turns into a voice Then somebody copies the voice and calls it yours So I leave one screw sitting slightly loose One bad take that I didn’t improve One small crack running straight through the truth Just enough room for the light to move Morning train and the doors pull wide