Sitting with your hands in your lap
On a cold metro bench
You're there waiting for the seven-thirty
Wrapped up in your overcoat
A guy is carefully reading the instructions
On the coffee machine
And a child is diving into a cream puff

And the clock against the wall
Has been showing ten past one for two years now
The name of this station
Is half erased by the humidity
A poster that someone has already scribbled on
Says, "Come to Tunisia"
There's a sea of velvet and a palm tree
And you dream of running away

And go
Far away
Far away
Go
Far away
Far away

And from a turned on radio
The notes of a jazz orchestra arrive
An old man with thick glasses and a finger
Is trying to solve a quiz
Two women are talking
With their arms full of Upim bags
And a newspaper is open on the movie page

And on the tracks how much life has passed
And how much will pass
Those two tight-knit boys
Who make promises for eternity
A man loudly complains
About the government and the police
And you still dream
You always dream, you dream of running away

And go
Far away
Far away
Go
Far away
Far away

You're there waiting for the seven-thirty
Wrapped up in your overcoat
Sitting on a cold metro bench

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