118

I'm standing at the roadside on the 118
It's freezing cold and I'm dead tired
A haze lies on the landscape, and I'm shivering
And all the falling stars seem to say goodbye

As the rime is gently creeping right over my feet
My eyes are following the white lines on the straightaway street
Swear that after the landing, and after the pain
I'll think back of you every time, every time it rains

I hit the road now, here on the 118
It's freezing cold and I'm dead tired
It's eight-thousand miles to where I don't wanna be
But still, I'm leaving, and I kind of wonder why

It was great from the beginning to the closing scene
I count those hundreds of dead flies on the dirty windscreen
You changed my paradigm and aspects, you're my passport to fame
I'll think back of you every time, every time it rains