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Somewhere there's a country you remember from your youth.
On the surface of this country is the one they built on top of it.
The highway leads to everything except for what they buried underneath it.
There is a country made of telegrams and tailcoats and nobody to grieve it.

But when the sun is getting lower then the highway marks the graves.
And the taillights, they circle like the roses of an infinite bouquet.
And everybody leaves.
Taillights for the grey ghosts of railways and candle holders.

And oh...

There's been an accident a mile away from here.
I heard the sound of sirens.
And they turned back again, and as they disappeared,
I saw a trail behind them.

You say the wind is up it's out collecting lives.
You say the wind is up it's out collecting lives.
And exit night is coming through.

Oh the wind is up; it's moving like no wind I've ever known.
The page that I was reading was the first that had to go.
But still I kept on reading, like the dead who have a memory of living.
Because the wind is here to take the thing I don't think I am ready to be giving.

And "Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Juliet?"
"She flew up off the table, out the window, now she's mixing with the dead."
"Oh won't you make her go away, I am not ready for her yet."
"Oh make her go away, I am not ready, I'm not ready for her yet."

And now the wind is up, it's out collecting lives.
You say the wind is up, it's out collecting lives.
And exit night is coming through.
And exit night is coming through.
Exit night has come for you.

Oh exit light, exit moon.
Tell me why, why so soon?

I don't know.
I don't know.

Ooh...

And oh,
Go to sleep.
Tomorrow, the day will repeat.
I will read 'til your memories,
Fly away.

There's no need,
To worry.
I will read until your memories
Leave your brain.

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