New Model Army: Leeds road 3am

The Festival is over and the strings of coloured lights are blowing crazy in the coming windOne bulb comes loose, shatters on the groundThe empty streets pick up the sound, it echoes like a tiny gunshot ringing through the damp and through the silenceWater trickles slowly like the feel of troubles only half washed awayBehind the wire the watchman doing nights sits beside a wall of screensbut he's not watching - gazing into the steam rising from his cup of coffeeHe's locked away insideStaring into the light of a different world. Near the top of Sandford Road, there's a parked Mondeo in the shadowsThe lighting of a cigarette illuminates four faces not talking, just waitingThe man in the front passenger seat holds the phone to his earlistens to a thin voice giving the detailsWhile in the back the boy with the long hairstares out through the misty glass into the dark streetsand into the light of a different world Three streets down the restaurant is empty, 3am weeknights, dead-timeThe owner came here years ago and never lost the dream of going homebut knows he never willIn the kitchen his son sits head in hands thinks about leavingAnywhere - just somewhere that's not hereDoesn't look up or see the Mondeo passing outsideHe's staring into the light a different world There's a couple in a red car coming home late on the inner ringnot talking or listening to the music just lost in their own thoughtsThe Mondeo shoots the lights at sixty-fiveSwerves, catches the red car that spins and rollsLands upside down in a crumple of metal and shattered glass The girl sits trapped inside watching new blood trickle down her shoulderTurns to see her boyfriend slumped against the dash as a little crowd gathers round'Make him wake up, make him wake up' she's screaming 'Make him wake up, make him wake up' and now she's pushing at him'Make him wake up, make him wake up'But he's goneStaring into the light of a different worldGazing into the light of a different world