Four in the morning on October the third
The year you disappeared
The ash on the road is still quite warm
Reading the map in the map light
And the engine is old
And the tyres are worn

Driving and searching through the long dry ocean
Weaving deep in a bed of abandoned desire
I'll be threading this wheel from hand to hand till you're found
Or the Landrover breaks down

(Tranquility Bay... saline levels normal... nocturnal visibility average to good)

Three in the morning on October the fourth
The year you disappeared
The canyons are watching me with your eyes
Craters like scars from a quarrel
And the petrol is low and my mouth is dry

(The arc of buggy tracks in moondust... Your face glowing in its frame in the dash... Alimentation and oxygen supplies critical... Life functions now endangered, unpredictable... Strange emotional pattern recorded at 300 and again towards dawn... foreboding... Log discontinued)

Driving and searching through the long dry ocean
Weaving deep in a bed of abandoned desire
I'll be threading this wheel from hand to hand till you're found
Or the Landrover hits
Sunday airports
The face of the waters
Service stations
Unrepeatable offers
Trial by jury
The god of the crossroads
Furnished quarters
Unfaithful lovers
Sunday airports
The face of the waters
Service stations
Unrepeatable offers
Trial by jury
The god of the crossroads
Furnished quarters
Unfaithful lovers