I'd like to think you can't leave me here   But every highwayman knows - you do what you please   Strand a man searching for your face   In every half-hung tear   And listening for your voice   In any half-heard sneeze   How would it feel to have heard the call   But to fumble the catch and un-hand the ball   Ask the one who has been shaken awake in the night   But to not listen hard enough   Fire a shotgun to the light   I know you're out there (I've felt your hand)   I'll search you out somehow   'Cause there's music waiting   Out in the rain   I'm hearing in it now      I know you're still singing (I strain to hear)   But our work is cut out   'Cause the air around here   Is so full and heavy   With voices all yelling   Voices full of nothing   Voices only selling   Second hand hope   Just to escape who you are   But you've always known better   Than to hide in projections   Or to wear a clever mask   Like paper protection   And in the thunderclap roar   Of my race through and round   The hills of who I am   I see what I could be   As I hear that phone ringing   And I hear her voice   (with yours' between the lines)