Station from Stations by Alternate Ending

Sitting in a railway station
long after there might have been a train.
Watching trails of vapour
as they try to weave their way between the rain.
Wondering, if I walked out,
would I just walk back in the way I came?

Second hand is all that's moving,
everything is frozen for the night.
All the shops are shuttered
and there isn't anybody else in sight.
Sitting in the circle,
but there isn't any warmth under the light.

Now.
Got a destination, but no map or plan,
and it doesn't help I don't know where I am.
Maybe it is too late. Well, it's too soon to know,
but it's all I have, so I can't quite let it go.

Stilled within the breadth of motion,
everything's so easily pulled apart.
Change the colour, spin the angle,
run the whole thing over from the start,
looking for connections
that could help to find or not to lose my heart.

So I hang suspended here,
between the worlds of may and could have been,
trying to hang on to half,
and to forget the other half I've seen,
proud of what I've built,
but also wondering what any of it means.

Now.
Got a destination, but no map or plan,
and it doesn't help I don't know where I am.
Maybe it is too late. Well, it's too soon to know,
but it's all I have so I won't just let it go.

• Folk
• chamber folk
• folk pop
• folk rock
• singer-songwriter
• techno folk
• Toronto