The remnants of your philosophy dusty space across the room At the diner where you laughed at me and I laughed too Funny but I never got the absurdity Into a clearing where I hope you'll be waiting Though I know you won't be Feel like trapping myself blind I'd have given you a cigarette but you stopped smoking Saying something about the look of it all being so burnt-out Into a clearing where I hope you'll be waiting Though I know you won't be Feel like trapping myself blind The leaves are now scattered but the trees stand still and I remember the impression we made Upon the blanket, on the grass Stepped out onto the sidewalk, hitting every crack Turning around again every now and then as if there's something there Over the bridge though I probably faltered a minute longer than I should have Just one minute longer on the second hand and I Came upon a bookstore, knowing if you were still around that This is where I'd find you, bought an old postcard Settled upon a beat-up, second-hand copy of The Stranger Wish you were here.