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When, when, when will we meet?
When I'm outside the station
A whirlwind of rubbish round my feet
When, when, when will you come?
With an army around you
Will I turn on my toes, will I run?

Will you strip the branches from the trees?
For me... for me... for me
The old life is over
The old life is over

When, when, when will we meet?
Will you turn round and face me?
The ship fallen far from it's fleet
When, when, when will you come?
With a handful of sky,
paper thin moon on your tongue.

Will you strip, the branches from the trees?
For me... for me... for me
The old life is over
The old life is over

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