I flee from these shoes so that I could come and meet you And in an instance I am scared by the innocence that trembles upon your smile And you You're afraid I might not like you
"What would you think of me",you say "I come hours late" And I think If you were a minute earlier, I wouldn't have been here "You come on time",I say and go back in my shoes
The cab-driver doesn't know the destination, and we don't care If it is too far we could walk so to trick the time to last longer
Your pockets are empty I put my hands in them It is warm This is where I belong I want to cover them with leaves and dirt so that I could hide it from other Like a dog hiding it's bone
There are no wrinkles on the photographs You're always smiling on your passport picture Now I know why there aren't any on the travelling tickets The conductor would have cried if he ever saw the passenger's eyes It is easier this way
You come on time but you never stay long enough I always miss you and have to go back in my shoes
The cab-driver says we're there and I wonder whose address is this and why he always takes us to the station The platforms have remembered the soles of our shoes and the tiny,little wrinkles on them made by the little pebbles on the street The benches know exactly when we're going to sit And the whistle of the train knows exactly when to shout So that you can't hear me say Come back...come back again...