on the day that I found I was travelling 

with words too heavy

hammering my skull

was the day that I woke on a train

looked around in my cabin 

heard the rhythm of the wagon 

repeating, the beating:



there's a morning on the way 



when you're locked like a thief 

in the poor arms of expectation

oxygen is thin

in the middle of Spain but you're

freezing from isolation

get yourself together and sing:



there's a morning on the way