Sunday night, by subway light

But the train is still far away

You said you'd come

By now everyone is drinking wine

From paper cups…

Are you lonesome tonight

Do you feel a little achy

I don't think you have a fever,

But I don't know…you do seem cold.

It's like black, black, black, black

Black cars you can't see into.

Leaving you wondering

And waiting on the curb

With all their little secrets

So keep on running from the winter

But you can't help missing the snow

And all these unfamiliar people

Who can't ever go back home

Who can't ever go back home