Through The Velvet Glass

The night is a liquid, a deep indblue Poolin' 'round my shoes. I wait for a signal, a flicker of you In the static of the news. And I dream… through the velvet glass. Where the moments slow… and the memories pass. A shape in the fog… on the landing above. It’s not you… it’s just the ghost of love. The coffee’s gone cold in its china cup. The pattern’s all wrong here. I try to stand up… but I feel myself fall… up. The ceiling’s a silent mirror. And I dream… through the velvet glass. Where the moments slow… and the memories pass. A shape in the fog… on the landing above. It’s not you… it’s just the ghost of love. (Bridge) The telephone wires… hum a dead tune. It’s always 3 a.m.… in this room. The curtain it moves… but there’s no wind at all. I hear my own name… in a silent call. And I dream… (through the glass)… Where the moments… (slow)… A shape in the fog… It’s not you… it’s not you…