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She sits in the corner |
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Where it's reasonably quiet |
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Drinking coffee with cream |
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Thinking stories of young love |
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She calls to the waiter |
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'won't you lend me some time? |
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You can sit by my side |
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And i'll let you be friends with mine.' |
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The cafe is old |
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But the candlelight's new |
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She orders beaujolais wine |
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And says 'i've thought of you too' |
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She whispers 'isn't it odd |
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You remind me of songs |
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That i'd rather forget |
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Like feelings i longed for |
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You haunt me inside |
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Sometimes i recall |
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Question mistakes |
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Who grew to nothing at all' |
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I hear voices that cry |
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And one of them's mine |
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All the things i could say |
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Are the reasons i can't |
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She says 'i've seen you before |
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In thoughts i call 'son' |
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Like an old film with sound |
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When the link comes undone' |
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The waiter is me |
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And the woman is you |
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And we are the story |
|
Just like others i knew |
