Déjà Vu
Edward Ka-Spel, CEvin Key
It was a cold November evening and I should have worn a coat.
I shivered, waiting for the ferry boat to carry me to you.
Could see you dancing in the harbour lights; your hair an orange flame.
You'd turn away, swing on a crane.
Always quite the same...
The same! The same!
It's always quite the same.
Rewind! Re-live it all again and again.
You'd tiptoe halfway across a rooftop, drop headfirst in the river.
You'd stretch out for a helping hand and once again I'd stand there, not close enough to touch, but I heard you call my name as you died.
And the ferry boat? It never did arrive...
