On the doorstep don’t know where I am
Nowhere left to go
On the doorstep I’m so tired
Can’t think anymore
On the doorstep, no use in hiding
Try and ring the bell
On the doorstep, the lights are shining
In this vacant hotel
From the howl of the Baltic Sea
To the Blue Mountain’s silent plea
Your unwelcome invitation
I’ve carried with me
On the doorstep, I can’t fight it
This flame’s burning low
On the doorstep, time is sliding
For the last picture show
From effervescing crowds of New Orleans
To Atahaulpa’s stoic retinue
This needle on my compass
It pointed towards you
Neon lights glowing from the bandstand
Was it all a dream?
An angry glare from fluorescent-damned-lamps
What was in-between?
Here I am clearing all the years of cob-webs
On the doorstep
On the doorstep lying silent
Nobody’s home
On the doorstep, no longer frightened
No need to post pone
From the last bench of a city tram
To the front seat of a limousine
I have all but forgotten
What was in-between
What was in-between?