Rise in the morning at sunrise,
Strangers around me sleep soundly at rest.
Phones and computers become me,
Signals stretch back to the lands that I've left.
Oh, in the quiet times,
I count up the things that I lack
And slip through the road lines:
The betrayal of wandering back.

I left you while you were sleeping,
Left you the warmth in your bed, where I lay.
You left me a love worth keeping,
You left me a diary to count off the days.
And so, in the quiet times,
I savour the things that I miss,
And slip through the road lines,
And wonder how I came to this.

I guess you never know
Loss til you have something to lose,
Choice til you have something to choose.

So give me my quiet times
To mourn for the things that I've lost.
You'll find me on the road lines,
Counting the miles and the cost.

So I never knew
Loss because I had nothing to lose,
Choice because I had nothing to choose.
But oh, all the things you do:
The way that you close your door,
The way that you guard your shores,
Darling, I'm coming home soon.