Under the Awning

Under the awning, the world is a blur

Headlights are cutting the mist and the air (hmmmmm)

And the traffic crawls away

Like a signal in the grey

Warmth through the cold glass,

briefly alive

We watch the embers of the evening survive (ooh-ooh)

Standing in silence, the frost on the floor

They hurry inside and they lock every door

Behind the glass (cold glass)