Station Song

It’s 2am on an autumn day,
I’m laying in the grass thinking of you.

Forgive me if I think of you so often,
but I am tired, oh so tired.

We never did consummate our love by the bedside table, 
Instead we drank,
we laughed,
we cried…

Oh I had to leave,
had to leave you behind,

Those challenges that you were not home,
they did hurt me so…

But I knew that you would soon be back,
cradling your drink of choice.

Who by fire knew it wouldn’t last,
who could give it one more chance?

We never said goodbye properly,
I never tasted those lips one last time,

It was true that I knew it was over, though, by the ringing of the bell.
I had given my parting shot,
delivered it by look alone,

Even though we never mentioned it,
I could tell by the tone of your c
racked voice, that you wished we had not met.

We drank to our knowledge,
our new fledged independence,
Dalliances of old and… of experiences new.                                                                 Hidden by its absence was our tempted love,
in the station still,
we bid it farewell.


Photograph by author (B&W film).

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