Screen Writer's Blues

I hear the train all night, sitting here, in this empty compartment of his , and I feel like the sound of its wind is blowing through a subtle lapse.
Through the glass of the window, I'm contemplating the world, walking all to sleep, so I can get to you. But I don't feel you stir beside me, and I'm not gonna see you next to me, when I'll wake up. Maybe because I haven't found you yet.

Some land holds a home, some of my years only hold me to roam. But I'm looking at my reflection, and I realize it's true. I see a home, I see a man. You see that too. The funny thing is that it's been in front of my eyes for a long time, now.
The only land that hold a home, it's the land I consider mine. And he's in it. For every year you took, for every soft breath of love, please, believe me.
I hope someone is telling you right now the things I wish I'd say. "Don't you know you have her ? Go on kiss her now, you, boy".
And don't keep me like you have me, and don't kiss me like you don't. I realized it's the only thing I need now.
These lines are telling the truth, this city veins answer it all. So, please, keep me in your pulses, keep me in the sound.