Fogged Window Confessions

(hummmm) We hold the rail and pretend it is casual

On this midnight route home

But my hand is an inch from your knuckles

Cold metal and fog on the pane

And we are drawing hearts in the condensation

Trying to stay inside the lines

Oh, we write the stories we can't tell aloud

Just keeping quiet tonight (ohhh)

Your stop is coming up

in two miles

You wipe a circle in the glass

To look at the streetlamp reflections

And I find myself wishing we were lost But you don't stand

up when the bell rings

You take your hand off the metal rail And slide it right

over mine

We're riding past your street tonight

And we are drawing hearts in the condensation

No longer trying to stay inside the lines Oh,

we write the stories we can't tell aloud

We are not keeping quiet tonight (we are not keeping quiet)