I am going to miss my train
I can't keep waiting for you
Even though i want to
I gotta stop washing my hands
Till they're cracked and they bleed
Like the moth on my lamp
My heart is bruised
Now i'm just like you
For better or worse
You're just like me too
But I miss the summer
The perpetual yardsale
The children they played
How they laughed and they wailed
The sweat and the silence
Of damp afternoons
I was
Newly acquainted
With the ideal you
I am going to miss my train
I don't care
I'll just split a cab with you
I hope we get there soon