This airport here in Reykjavik
Looks just like any other
Coffee on cold benches
With faded leather covers

Announcements on the loudspeaker
Monitors above us
Timetables of planes
Leaving for Paris or for Brussels
And here we are

Everything reminds me
Of some otherwhere I’ve been
Three hours in this waiting room,
Then on the plane again
I’m sure this is a great town,
But we’re only passing through
Don’t let me be a stopover for you

Part of who we are
Is the sum of where we’ve been
These places all combine in us
Until they’ve blended in
Some are brightly colored
Others fade away
Bleed into each other with
A palette dull and gray
But here we are

Everything reminds me
Of some otherwhere I’ve been
Three hours in this waiting room,
Then on the plane again
I’m sure this is a great town,
But we’re only passing through
Don’t let me be a stopover for you
We buy ourselves a drink

At a duty-free waystation
Kronars, dollars, euros, pounds, all legal tender
We’re glad to have a place to sit
But that’s all this means to us
By tomorrow, there’s nothing we’ll remember
But here we are

Everything reminds me
Of some otherwhere I’ve been
Three hours in this waiting room,
Then on the plane again
I’m sure this is a great town,
But we’re only passing through
Don’t let me be a stopover for you