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 waits by the side of the road
Where’s he going?
I dream we are lying on the top of a hill
And 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 in some 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
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