Wednesday Overcast
Archie Marshall
I heard you were back in the country
Looking for me
That your heart was broken
And your head was clean
Down here on the carpet
Of stale smoke and witch dreams
A motel and Carr Mill
Empty stomach of weed
Left me a note explaining
Reasons for your leave
St-stuck here, no answers, no peace
A train to the coast, four hours, once a week
In the pub corner surrounded by creeps
They spoke of the violence and racist police
In old red bricks and ten cups of tea
This place was forgotten from history
I lay in silence before we arrange to meet
The mirror was small and behind lots of trees
My head was empty, my life was discreet
A lot has changed, now a lot means to me
