Tony Banks - Another Murder Of A Day lyrics

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She dreams china white behind her eyes of china blue

Her future wrapped in velvet and her memories wrapped in warm cotton

wool

And the coffee grounds

are burying the hours that she killed

in another murder of a day

Her patience starts to crumble

like a rock that turns to sand

and time breaks down to seconds

when you're waiting, waiting on a man, waiting on a man

She's checking out the doorway while she's checking out the guy

Whose drunk imagination is climbing up the ladder of her silk clad thigh

And the cigarettes

are burning up the hours that she killed

in another murder of a day

Her patience starts to crumble

like a rock that turns to sand

and time breaks down to seconds

when you're waiting, waiting on a man, waiting on a man, waiting on a

man

It seems so long since yesterday

The time goes by so slow

When you're waiting on a man, waiting on a man to show

She shivers in a cold sweat that she's trying to ignore,

As she wraps her shaking fingers round the loose change by the phone,

She needs him more than she'll admit and more than others need to know,

She hopes the knots that tie her stomach are only butterflies,

The time goes by so slow

When you're waiting on a man, waiting on a man to show.

She prays that no one pays attention

As she punches out the call,

As she fumbles with the number

That the panic still doesn't show,

She prays the lights stay green all night

She prays the traffic doesn't slow,

And that the knots that tie her stomach are only butterflies,

Only butterflies, fly by every day

While you're waiting on a man, waiting on a man to show

There he stands behind the door,

She reaches for her coat to go,

And she wanders away in a dream

She wanders away to a dream

She threads her way home through the neon washed alleyways

She flirts with the shadows and skirts round the victims

Of a night that'll sleep through the day

that casts out its refugees and throws out its debris,

She turns the key in a lock to a fairytale world

that she guards with her ghosts of faithful familiars

who attend to her shrine in the patchwork cathedral

observing the ritual with silent compassion and prayers

On the candlelit edges of a tightening circle

She arranges the photographs faded and yellowing

The memories left of her friends and her family

Respectfully turned to the wall

She turns up the sound on a second hand radio

and drowns out the noise of the world that she lives in

Her conscience her witness her life is her courtroom

And the man she left waiting is waiting to murder a day