On a lark

On the whim

I said there ' s two kinds of men

In this world and

You ' re neither of them

And his fist

Cut the smoke

I had an eighth of a second to wonder

If he got the joke

And in the car

Headed home

She asked if I had considered

The prospect of living alone

With a stake

Held to my eye

I had to summon

The confidence needed to hear her goodbye

And another brief chapter without

Any answers blew by

And the songs that she sang in the shower

Are stuck in my head

Like Bring Out The Dead

Breakfast In Bed

And experience robs me of hope

That she ' ll make it back home

So I ' m stuck on my own

I ' m stuck on my own

In a room

By myself

Looks like I ' m here with a guy

That I judge worse than anyone else

So I pace

And I pray

And I repeat the mantra ' s

That might keep me clean for the day

And the songs that she sang

In the shower all ring in my ear

Like Wish You Were Here

How I wish you were here

And experience robs me of hope

That you ' ll ever return

So I breathe and I burn

I breathe and I burn

And the church bells are ringing for those

Who are easy to please

And the frost on the ground probably envy ' s

The frost on the trees

And the songs she sang in

The shower are stuck in my mind

Like Yesterday ' s Wine like Yesterday ' s Wine

And experience tells me

That I ' ll never hear them again

Not thinking of them

Not thinking of them