作詞：Tim Rice-Oxley, Tom Chaplin, Richard Hughes & Jesse Quin 作曲：Tim Rice-Oxley, Tom Chaplin, Richard Hughes & Jesse Quin The click of the front door Your clothes left on the floor Bike wheels still turning Where you left them on the back lawn Your voices recede and Your fingers slip from my hand White skies and silence A lifeless wind burns through the Downland And it's cold, cold, cold, cold, cold When you're not home, home, home, home, home I sit and stare, I sit and stare Into my phone, phone, phone, phone, phone I love that silver-grey first morning light I see that fearless love in your blue eyes Think I can picture some new shape of life But now you're not home No, you're not home, not home And it's cold, cold, cold, cold, cold When you're not home, home, home, home, home I sit and stare, I sit and stare Into my phone, phone, phone, phone, phone I love that silver-grey first morning light I see that fearless love in your blue eyes Think I can picture some new shape of life But now you're not home No, you're not home I love that silver-grey first morning light I see that fearless love in your blue eyes Think I can picture some new shape of life But now you're not home No, you're not home Not home, no, you're not home Not home, no, you're not home Not home No, you're not home