Waiting All Night for You to Come Home - Holly Throsby

If I wait any longer the world could’ve ended

And the moon it takes hours to come around

Me and my watch, we’re getting connected

We play at who can stare the other one out

I hear for the car to pull into the driveway

And the moon it threatens to finish its rounds

The ads on the TV are all ten-digit numbers

And pieces of skin that aren’t usually allowed

We’ve been moving around in these same walls again

It couldn’t be any longer

I’m back in here again

We’ve been moving 'round

But it’s just a kind of death now

It’s just a kind of death