What Doesn't Change

WHAT DOESN’T CHANGE

I’m riding on the D train in the setting sun,

Blinded by the light off the river.

I see beggars and nurses with their heads hanging low.

Every stranger’s face is a mirror.

And I’m thinking about my father coming home from work,

Looking so defeated in his button-down shirt.

Maybe I should call him up to tell him I get it:

We’re not so different, after all.

We are one in the twilight.

We are one in the waves.

We’re going back to forever,

Back to what doesn’t change.

What doesn’t change.

I made it out to Brooklyn just to get your text

Telling me you’re not up for meeting.

These situationships always end up the same.

I don’t know why I put my heart through the beating.

And I’m thinking about my mother back in ’92

Running off to Spain for someone she barely knew.

Maybe I should call her up to tell her I miss her.

We’re not so different after all.

We are one in the twilight.

We are one in the waves.

We’re going back to forever,

Back to what doesn’t change.

What doesn’t change.

I can’t explain eternity.

I cannot claim that I am free.

I just know there are times when I can see

That it’s the same part we take turns playing.

It’s the same heart we keep betraying.

It’s the same hurt over and over

And over and over again.

My friends are gone. All the money’s spent.

And the days all feel so fleeting.

And I know there’s a fight that I’ve got to let go.

But I can’t kick the habit of competing.

And I’m feeling like the light is piercing me.

What if it’s the last sunset I see?

Maybe I can give it a rest for a minute,

Take it in before it’s gone.

We are one in the twilight.

We are one in the waves.

We’re going back to forever,

Back to what doesn’t change.

We fade in the tall grass.

We fade in the waves

As we go back to forever,

Back to what doesn’t change.

What doesn’t change.

What doesn’t change.

Words and music by Paul Weinfield/Tam Lin Music Publishing (BMI, 2024)