train arrives
the wind-driven plastic bags
fly over the fence
the sun reflects from the rails
but there is no-one
that i could recognize as the one
that i've been waiting for all the day
like a sign from the sky
walk don't run
not every day is the same
there'll be no rain
to spoil your saturday make-up
and there is no-one
who could really say for sure
if we're making out wishes
upon satellites or stars
i wish i could
become a stranger to myself
or an empty seat
in a leaving train for good
there is no-one
who could even roughly estimate
if we're sending our prayers
to satellites or stars

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