Intro: Am

F
Our instruments have no way of measuring this feeling
Can never cut below the floor, or penetrate the ceiling
Am
In the space between our houses, some bones have been discovered
But our procession lurches on, as if we had recovered

Bm C F (2x)

C         G      Am
Draconian winter unforetold
C         G                    Am
One solar day, suddenly you're old
C               G                  Am
Your little envelope just makes me cold
C          G                 Am  
Makes destination start to unfold

Am

F
Our documents are useless, or forged beyond believing
Page forty-seven is unsigned, I need it by this evening
Am
In the space between our cities, a storm is slowly forming
Something eating up our days, I feel it every morning

Bm C F (4x)
Destination, destination

C            G                       Am  
It's not a religion, it's just a technique
C           G                  Am
It's just a way of making you speak
C             G                      Am
Distance and speed have left us too weak
C        G                    Am
And destination looks kind of bleak

G Am (2x)
Am

F
Our elements are burned out, our beasts have been mistreated
I tell you it's the only way we'll get this road completed
Am
In the space between our bodies, the air has grown small fingers
Just one caress, you're powerless, like all those clapped-out swingers

Bm C F (4x)
Destination, destination