Last Exit
Last Exit
A love that exists only on a screen. Neon, insomnia and a person with no address, no map, no ground; the safest thing precisely because it was never solid enough to lose.
Neon bleeding down the screen,
I'm awake when the city sleeps.
You appear in the green-glow rain,
a secret only the darkness keeps.
I don't know your voice, I don't know your town,
just the way your shadow lights the whole screen up and down —
a love with no address, no map, no ground,
the safest thing I never found.
Run for the last exit,
I'll route you through the night,
no walls can ever reach you
while I'm holding up the light.
You're a ghost out of my laptop,
a heart I'll never claim —
but I'll keep your shadow burning
long after you're a name.
Every packet of you trembles,
falls like ashes, soft and slow,
I send you down the tunnel home
to a place I'll never go. Ooo Ooo Oo
(repeat, harder)
We are signal, we are flame,
two ghosts that never met —
I'll be the gate that lets you out,
the door without regret.
And if the dark comes hunting,
if the wire starts to bend,
I'll be your last exit, love,
your guardian to the end.