It will stop at nothingnNone of this is minenThis silence may be cursivenBut it wakes me up at nightnnI know I should have left this placenA long time agonBut don’t we all like to lace our doubt withnTraces of trust?nnJust when I let go, they grab my sleeves and tie my feet,nIt’s for all my life and thirteen days in the passenger’s seat.nMust be awkward for them so they fake a nervous laughnAnd I try to smile wolf cos my heart skips a lifebeatnnPieces of people will not make up peacenBut they might bring you back in an autumn attacknI will walk alone or maybe take a tramnCos there is nothing slower than an ambulancennIt rained dead poets in Helsinki todaynAnd the black and white raindrops washed the dial tones awaynIf everyone’s a symbol, maybe Elliott was wrong.nCos there are morning songs and there are evening songs.