I sit on the station, with a box in my hands.
She said she would come so I'll wait.
One train passed five minutes ago,
the other about an hour,
yet still I wait
In the rain and the cold.
She would come she said,
And I'm still holding her box...
Where is she then?
I'm waiting.
Another train passes, and still no sign of her.
I wonder what's inside the box, but she told me:
"Don't open it."
Will she come, and take it?
I'm freezing...
Someone walks and stops beside me...
He looks at me for a minute,
Then goes away again.
Another train passes.
The thought of the box keeps burning my head.
I don't know what's inside it.
It's light.
But heavy at the same time.
So I'm still waiting
For the woman on the phone.
Another train passes.
Nothing, silence.
Midnight.
No one's around...
I'll open it.
No.
I cannot. I must not.
So I wait, and I wait...
And the world keeps turning,
And trains keep entering the station.
No sign of her.
She won't come.
Yet still I wait.
I wait...
