I don't know if it was real or in a dream, lately waking up I'm not sure where I've been. There was a table set for six, and five were there, I stood outside and kept my eyes upon that empty chair. And there was steam on the windows from the kitchen, Laughter like a language I once spoke with ease, But I'm made mute by the virtue of decision, And I choose most of your life goes on without me.
Oh, the fear I've known, that I might reap the praise of strangers And end up on my own. All I've sown was a song, But maybe I was wrong.
I said to you the one gift which I'd adore, the package of the next 10 years unfolding. But you told me if I had my way, I'd be bored. Right then I knew I loved you best born of your scolding. When we last talked, we were lying on our backs, looking up at the sky through the ceiling. I used to lie like that alone out on the driveway, trying to read the greek upon the stars, the alphabet of feeling.
Oh, I knew back then it was a calling that said if joy then pain, the sound of the voice these years later is still the same.
I am alone in a hotel room tonight. I squeeze the sky out but there's not a star appears. Begin my studies with this paper and this pencil, and I'm working through the grammar of my fears.
Oh mercy, what I won't give to have the things that mean the most not to mean the things I miss. Unforgiving, the choice still is the language or the kiss.