[Hook]
In the blue light of the Belvedere Motel,
Wondering as the television burns.
How the heart approaches what it yearns.
In a fever I distinctly hear your voice,
Emerging from a dream, the dream returns.
How the heart approaches what it yearns.
After the rain on the Interstate
Headlights slide past the moon.
A bone-weary traveler,
Who waits by the side of the road.
Where's he goin'?
I dream we are lying on the top of a hill,
Headlights slide past the moon.
I roll in your arms
And your voice is the heat of the night.
I'm on fire.
In a phone booth is a local bar and grill
Rehearsing what I'll say, my coin returns.
How the heart approaches what it yearns.
How the heart approaches what it yearns.