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I discovered this old lyric that I wrote a long time ago. The melody (such that it was) came straight back, so I thought I’d give the words an airing:

 

It was ten past one on a cold dark morning,

My last cup of coffee was cold,

The owner of the cafe told me to go,

And locked up his door.

Slowly I walked down the quiet road,

Sat down in the railway station,

There were no more trains but I didn’t care,

I’d got nowhere to go.

 

And then someone turned the lights out in the railway station,

And I fell asleep on the bench,

Pictures of you and what we had seen,

Flashed across my mind.

Why did we ever drift apart,

Can I begin to explain?

And I can’t remember how this all began,

How I fell in love with you.

 

And who knows whether I was really in love,

Or if I were just too blind,

Never alone but lonely still,

Perhaps it took my mind.

Who called the tune and who led the way,

I just can’t say anymore,

And I’m still clearing my mind of its hazy dreams,

Picking out what is real.

 

But for a photograph in my pocket,

It could’ve all been a dream,

But my dreams still include the soft loving voice,

Fading with each dying day.

And where I am going I just can’t say,

I’ve drifted already too long,

Fear is someday I’ll even forget your name,

And your face will melt away.

 

And then someone turned the lights out in my life,

I guess now it must’ve been you,

Yet how can I blame you for who I am,

It never was your concern.

I wanted to change with your love,

Fools will always dream,

And then someone turned the lights out in the railway station,

Perhaps now I think it was me.

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