We wander through midnight streets
looking for something we’ll never find,
expecting in the shadows are dreams
we dropped in another time‚
when love was in the air
and youth was fresh as urban snow
charcoal grey in workmen’s driveways
after dawn awakens industry.

I hope that I will find you anywhere
because I don’t know where I’d begin to look.
I hope that I will feel your hand on mine.
You were always there whenever I was in doubt.

We shake the hands of people we meet,
but we don’t care to know their names.
Their weatherworn faces frown long
before they reach middle age.
But there’s pleasure in HD TV,
stately pleasure domes of the modern age.
As our plans lie silently stillborn,
forgotten lovers cry through the night.

I hope that I will find you anywhere
because I don’t know where I’d begin to look.
I hope that I will feel your hand on mine.
You were always there whenever I was in doubt.