SevenDays - S-PULP JANE

Taking the last train to New York, the sun disappeared behing the buildings.
I breath the silence on the streets. I think it was there where I greeted her for the first time, yeah, this is beautiful.
Her name was Jane, she looked tired. I couldn´t understand why her look was so sad,
I couldn´t understand why!

She left her folder and fell asleep, at this moment I forgot how much I liked the sunsets, I forgot the name of my station.
I coughed got of and said goodbye. This start to be my rutine. Taking the last train, waiting in the station, sleeping and dreaming.... dreaming....

Her name was Jane, and she was so far...
I started to see her more often. She cheered me up every days.
However she looked so sad, no...

I never managed to asked to her. I´ve never been very brave.
Was Jane a dream? I don´t know. I´ve never been very brave.
They weren´t any cars in the streets, the previous day was a cloudy day.
Her eyes were dark, she seemed ill. She didn´t appear, and I walked home and I found her folder.
Her folder, my hands; my hands, her folder. Where is she?

I thought she lost it in the station. I took it with care and I keept it.
Her name was written upon it.
I found some notes inside the folder. Her name was Jane, she was from France.
She had written about me in them. There was no doubt.....she wrote about me.
I had dreamt about this moment so many times!!!
At last, I would tell her what I felt.

I waited at the station.
I waited in the carriage.
I waited on the streets.

And I have never seen her again.
Where dreams were born, reality died. I didn´t understand anything.
Neither did I asked. I only remember looking at the sunset again from the top of the bridge, alone, alone.....
Goodbay Jane. Wait for me. I´m going. I will find you..... I will find you...