That's the last time I'll board that plane -
When you're waiting in Boston to fill the time.
When you're drafting another elaborate fable -
And destroying the real - of its fantasy - finally.
Leaving me again - and last -
reminding me why I left.
So unravel yourself so many nights -
in damn memories, long gone.
You're drinking in years lost - at a pint's empty swoosh -
and tellin' me I'm the wrecked one.
Tellin' her everything in the world is true - and hers -
and wandering every night just doesn't count.
You're aching for "different" in broken habits of regret -
and lecturing philosophy found.
So what's that "gut" gotten you?
Choosing settling and goodbye - every time.
Harden whatever you desire -
like that city, that you cant leave.
Live in concrete rules - and let it ring.
Make believe in boring.
It's always just too cold - and you don't know why.
But me -
I'm swimming in the sea beyond - I'm under the Salem moon -
Giving you the woman I was to keep.
Treasure a ghost - and hold her tight.
She's not me.
. . .
