Mission Street Lyrics - Warm Strangers - Vienna Teng

Mission Street is a striking dark-eyed stranger 

Who speaks a language I don't know but long to learn 

Its cadences fall endlessly beyond the windowpane 

As I sit as though awaiting some return 

And my hands are cold tonight 

I'm sleepless in this dark 

Forgetting what it was I came to find 

And it seems that I've been wrong 

More than I've been right 

More than I've been right 

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Mission Street calls out to me by name 

Then hurries on before I've hardly turned my head 

Promises of answers muttered underneath her breath 

Like an offering of contraband misread 

And my hands are cold tonight 

On the strings of this guitar 

Looking for the chords of what I've left behind 

And it seems that I've been wrong 

More than I've been right 

More than I've been right 

Mission Street is alive at every hour 

Like I've never been and feared I may not ever be 

A light so steady on the mountains in the distance 

A solitude so deep it might awaken me 

Photos 

Well, my hands are cold tonight 

But the sky is bright with stars 

And I'm tearing through the veil that keeps me blind 

And it seems the more I'm wrong 

The more that I am right 

The more that I am right 

Mission Street 

Mission Street