[Intro Instrumental: A weathered upright piano plays a loose, circling figure beneath softly overdriven electric guitar. Bass arrives warm and melodic, drums entering with brushes before opening into a full room pulse. A low organ swell hangs behind the chords like evening mist over a harbour road.] [Verse 1] I found it in the pocket of a coat I gave away one bitter April day, Folded round a receipt for diesel And a photograph that lost its face. Every road was drawn in faded blue, Every town wore somebody else’s name, But there, beside the river bend, You had written mine in pencil rain. [Verse 2] I took it to the station after dark, Held it under yellow platform light, Watched the last train drag its windows Through the sleeping edge of night. A man beside me cracked a joke About the weather and the state of things, Then hummed a tune his father knew And made the whole place start to sing. [Chorus] Bring me back to the railway bridge, To the field behind the mill, Where the sky came down in copper And the air stood warm and still. I have worn these miles like gravel In the soles beneath my bones, Carrying a world of roads And still not finding home. [Post-Chorus] Oh, turn the page, Turn the page, Let the river name the place. [Instrumental: The piano presses forward with a rolling, percussive rhythm. Electric guitar answers in bright, bent-note phrases; the bass climbs around the vocal melody while drums widen into a driving, unpolished groove. Wordless backing voices rise briefly, more like friends gathered in a room than a polished choir.] [Verse 3] At the market near the old bus depot, Apples shone in crates like little suns, A woman sold old books from cardboard boxes, Said, “Take one—you look like you’ve been running.” I opened one at random on the kerb, Found a pressed leaf brittle in the spine, And for a second every street behind me Turned its face and spoke in your old voice. [Pre-Chorus] Maybe every place I ever loved Was only waiting past a different door, Maybe I was never lost at all— Just asking too much of the floor. [Chorus] Bring me back to the railway bridge, To the field behind the mill, Where the sky came down in copper And the air stood warm and still. I have worn these miles like gravel In the soles beneath my bones, Carrying a world of roads And still not finding home. [Interlude: Drums fall away to handclaps and piano. A single electric guitar line trembles above the organ, then the band pauses long enough for the room to breathe.] [Bridge] So I’ll leave the paper open On the table by the door, Let the wind revise the borders, Let it scatter what it’s for. There are hands I have not shaken, There are streets I have not known, And a heart is more than memory— It is muscle, breath, and stone. [Final Chorus] Bring me back to the railway bridge, To the field behind the mill, Where the sky came down in copper And the air stood warm and still. I have worn these miles like gravel In the soles beneath my bones, Carrying a world of roads— Now I’ll make my way back home. [Outro] Fold the corners, Leave the marks, Keep the road beneath the dark. Fold the corners, Let it roam, Every step can build a home. [Outro Instrumental: Full band carries the final refrain without vocals. Piano and organ hold the centre while guitar rings in wide, aching phrases. The drums gradually loosen and fade, leaving bass, a final piano chord, and the faint sound of the room settling.]
