[00:37.74]Mission street is a striking dark-eyed stranger
[00:43.99]Who speaks a language I don''t know but long to learn
[00:51.81]Its cadences fall endlessly beyond the windowpane
[00:59.34]As I sit as though awaiting some return
[01:06.84][02:09.10]And my hands are cold tonight
[01:13.12]I''m sleepless in this dark
[01:17.03]Forgetting what it was I came to find
[01:22.30][02:24.81]And it seems that I''ve been wrong
[01:28.89][01:32.63][02:31.41][02:35.19]More than I''ve been right
[01:39.15]Mission street calls out to me by name
[01:45.28]Then hurries on before I''ve hardly turned my head
[01:54.76]Promises of answers muttered underneath her breath
[02:01.56]Like an offering of contraband misread
[02:15.08]On the strings of this guitar
[02:19.38]Looking for the chords of what I''ve left behind
[02:57.98]Mission street is alive at every hour
[03:04.12]Like I''ve never been and feared I may not ever be
[03:13.46]A light so steady on the mountains in the distance
[03:19.89]A solitude so deep it might awaken me
[03:29.29]Well my hands are cold tonight
[03:35.23]But the sky is bright with stars
[03:39.15]And I''m tearing through the veil that keeps me blind
[03:44.73]And it seems the more I''m wrong
[03:51.01][03:54.88]The more that I am right