We are a bit strange every time, as if you don't really know each other yet. I am a tourist in your city, who is never really at home. But everything is somehow better than separated. The weeks in between are far too long. On the phone, that only makes us sick. I don't know your everyday life. And if you don't talk about it, it stays like your things in my closet. I sit in the train for hours and feel with every breath. I hate our love at a distance. I always have you short, but never completely. The separation drives me crazy. And where you were, I don't ask. I hate our love at a distance. I've been standing in the train for an hour. The hands are frozen at the coffee. The friends have already asked. I cancelled for today. I wonder if that will separate us. I hate our love at a distance. I always have you short, but never completely. The separation drives me crazy. And where you were, I don't ask. I hate our love at a distance. And on Sunday I sit next to you. And I know exactly, we can do it. We can do it. And on Monday I will drive again. And you often think about it, because I'm not sure. I hate our love at a distance. I always have you short, but never completely. The separation drives me crazy. And where you were, I don't ask. I hate our love at a distance. I hate our love at a distance. I always have you short, but never completely. The separation drives me crazy. And where you were, I don't ask. I hate our love at a distance. © transcript Emily Beynon