PARIS TRAIN

Now you're sitting on a ParisTrain laughing at your own jokes again
Sun splits the trees into beautiful broken light
Never cry more tears than you could hold in your hands
When all the world's airbrushed it's a sacred bond of trust
Sometimes, sometimes I see right through the scenery
The first place that's on my mind the last place I find each time
Sometimes, I swim beyond the scenery
The last place that's on my mind
The first place I find each time

Now I'm sitting on a Paris train molten ash falls like rain
Fire burns the trees it's a beautiful fatality
Love the way you stand your ground sea moves as mercury
To break its perfect skin to dare to dive within

Sometimes, sometimes I see much more than is good for me
The first thing that's on my mind the last place I'd look each time
Sometimes, I slip inside the imagery and
The last thing that's on my mind's
The first thing I'll do each time

Stars racing to burn out
Just stars racing to burn out
A storm waiting to break
Like trees standing black against the sky
This was inevitable, inevitable
Sometimes, sometimes we can see beyond our history
The last place you hope to find the one that's been there all the time
Sometimes, sometimes we can swim beyond the scenery
And the first place that's on your mind
The first place you'd find each time

Written by: Beth Orton / Ted Barnes
Album version on: Daybreaker

Snippet from Harp magazine:

Something interesting is going on in "Paris Train," the first track on the new album. One loop suggests the clickety-clack of railroad tracks, while another synth provides the whoosh of wind outside a train window. These sounds set up the lyrics about riding a train away from a volcano. The protagonist stares out the window and wonders if the end of a recent affair was as "inevitable" as the eruption of the mountain above her or the path of the tracks below her.

And the lyrics set up an arresting melody that rises with hope that she might "see beyond her history," only to fall with the sighing realization that "the last thing on my mind is the first thing I do each time." The song wouldn't be nearly as effective without the studio tricks, but the tricks would be meaningless without the song.

"That's the song where I came nearest to my Blade Runner idea," Orton says.' After the basic track was recorded, I sat with Adam Peters, the keyboardist, in New York for days. He'd play ideas, and I'd say, 'No, that's not it,' or 'Yeah, that's great.' When he came up with those train sounds, it blew my head off. I knew what I wanted, but I couldn't do it on my own.