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Empty hand

par Eliza Doolittle

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I don´t have the reflection,
Of anybody checking their face,
In the shade of my glasses,
One way ticket on the fast train,
And I´m solo all the way.

I could maybe read a novel,
To push away the trouble,
That sits in the pit of my tummy,
But I know that it will find me,
When I finish the last page.

An empty hand I wave goodbye,
I feel a tickle in my eye.

No I´ll never, sever any time,
Tired of the journey,
No hand held in mine,
No I´ll never, sever any time,
Tired of the journey,
No hand held in mine.

Will I always feel it more,
On a day when there´s a storm,
Or a raincloud, so dangerous and lonely,
No one ever told me,
That the darkness is my fault.

And I´m looking out the window,
And losing both my dimples,
As they enter the ends of my smile,
´Cause I am a thousand miles,
From the place I need to go.

And empty hand I wave goodbye,
I feel a tickle in my eye.

No I´ll never, sever any time,
Tired of the journey,
No hand held in mine,
No I´ll never, sever any time,
Tired of the journey,
No hand held in mine.
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