Where the High Arches Meet

[Verse 1] In the crowd on the platform, your green velvet jacket catches the light. On the way we stop in the park. Your hip against mine. The sun warms my back while I watch you talk to the sky with your eyes closed. [Chorus] I loved you when we were young, and I have loved others since. We only meant to open it ajar and let a little light in — now the gates stand wide open. In here a whisper, even the smallest sigh, is carried up where the high arches meet, the deep answers us in overtones, thought catches thought in antiphon, and a choir of senses bursts into harmony. [Verse 2] We follow the harbour, talking easy — about rain, trains, how you come to know yourself. Then you ask me something no one has ever asked me before, and I stop mid-step. [Chorus] I loved you when we were young, and I have loved others since. We only meant to open it ajar and let a little light in — now the gates stand wide open. In here a whisper, even the smallest sigh, is carried up where the high arches meet, the deep answers us in overtones, thought catches thought in antiphon, and a choir of senses bursts into harmony. [Verse 3] The evening sun slips behind rain-heavy clouds, to the wet sounds of summer rain, bodies blend — and time loses its meaning. Deep inside the red flame there burns a blue, and neither of us knows who is who. [Verse 4] Breath by breath I sink into the warmth of your body — thigh against thigh, your back against my chest, my head close to yours. A faint, deep pulse travels between us, hip to head, like a slow tide, and we let ourselves be rocked. [Chorus] I loved you when we were young, and I have loved others since. We only meant to open it ajar and let a little light in — now the gates stand wide open. In here a whisper, even the smallest sigh, is carried up where the high arches meet, the deep answers us in overtones, thought catches thought in antiphon, and a choir of senses bursts into harmony. [Bridge] Your train waits at the platform, doors open. [Final Chorus] Then the tide pulls back and sets us down. The gates we walked through together still stand open — and in there, an old flame burns blue. In there a whisper, even the smallest sigh, is carried up where the high arches meet, the deep answers us in echoes, thought reaches for thought in antiphon, and a choir of senses slowly dies away in wonder. [Outro] The train rolls out of sight — and my eyes follow the two rails. [End]