Verse 1 I'm folding maps I'll never use again Counting stations by the names of who I've been There was a bridge in Prague, a rooftop in Madrid And somewhere in between I lost the person that I hid Verse 2 I kept a ticket stub from Lisbon to the coast Pressed between the pages of the words I loved the most There was a stranger with a cello case Humming something soft to fill the empty space Chorus Riding out the distance, counting every mile Learning how to miss you in departure-lounge denial Every border crossing is a chance to let you go But I keep finding pieces of you in every station I don't know Verse 3 You sent a postcard from a town I've never seen Said you found a version of the life we might have been I read it twice beneath a flickering light Then watched it blur to nothing on the sleeper train at night Verse 4 I remember rain against a window in Berlin The cellist packed his case and let the quiet back in I remember thinking love's just geography A place you leave, a place that never quite leaves you or me Chorus Riding out the distance, counting every mile Learning how to miss you in departure-lounge denial Every border crossing is a chance to let you go But I keep finding pieces of you in every station I don't know [Instrumental Break 10-Bars] Bridge Maybe home was never on the map at all Maybe I've been running from a voice I still recall Maybe every ticket that I buy Is just another way of saying goodbye Final Chorus So I'll keep riding out the distance, counting every mile Learning how to hold you in the space between denial Every departure board is a chance to let you go But I still find pieces of you in every station that I know Outro Folding maps I'll never use again Counting stations by the names of who I've been
