| Carla, you don’t say much
|
| About all of the pain that you feel
|
| Ships start, arrive late in the night-time
|
| Filled with all of the friends that you say that you’ve known
|
| And on the evening of the war
|
| It was not important any more
|
| Carla in your night as day
|
| Nothing changes anyway
|
| And I know what you would say
|
| I’m sorry that I’m running from
|
| Something that I used to love
|
| When I was with you
|
| Call my name out of a page
|
| Climb aboard another train
|
| Every time you do
|
| Well I don’t know where I have been
|
| I don’t know where I would like to be going to
|
| Keep your eye on the light and it would see you through
|
| I live, in the city
|
| And I can’t find my way out
|
| And on the evening of the war
|
| It was not important any more
|
| Carla in your night as day
|
| Nothing changes anyway
|
| And I know what you would say
|
| I’m sorry that I’m running from
|
| Something that I used to love
|
| When I was with you
|
| Call my name out of a page
|
| Climb aboard another train
|
| Every time you do
|
| Well I don’t know where I have been
|
| I don’t know where I would like to be going to
|
| Keep your eye on the light and it would see you through
|
| Sorry that I’m running from
|
| Something that I used to love
|
| When I was with you
|
| Call my name out of a page
|
| Climb aboard another train
|
| Every time you do
|
| Well I don’t know where I have been
|
| I don’t know where I would like to be going to
|
| Keep your eye on the light and it would see you through |