Polly Harvey wrote this song hoping Thom Yorke would sing it on her “New York” album Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea. And he did.

It’s a poignant tale of two lovers contemplating their brief and passionate romance in a New York hotel room.

They met on Wednesday and dream of making love (again) night and day. But it’s an impossible dream.

They sit in silence until he tells her she must leave before the sun rises above the skyscrapers.

Like all the best lyrics, it’s what’s left out, and what remains unsaid that resonates long after the song has ended.

“I don’t think we will meet again,” they both agree.