we could talk for an hour but no more than two.
i'm at the entrance of the tube. too late for talking baby. we could've talked a little more, but that was before i was late for this train.
when i get to warwick avenue, fall will be outside my window, october months are red and gold and burning orange. i'll be walking down the avenue, spread wide my arms and scarves in the wind, scatter leaves across the avenue. the past upon the avenue.
i didn't want the train to come/now it's departed, i'm broken-hearted/all the days spent together, when i wish for better/and i didn't want this train to come.