Sitting in the station
And my coffee's getting cold
But I wait in tired stagnation
For the caffeine to take hold.
A slave ship brought me here
And I didn't have a bed
So I languished on a widowed pier,
My coat over my head.
And sure enough, as I awoke,
An echo lingered on my tongue
Of the farewells that we never spoke,
The swan song that was never sung.
We said we'd sit beneath the skies
And gaze in quietus at the sun
And I'd watch the nightfall in your eyes
And pray that dawn would never come.
But the beguiling skies, they wept
And sank our sundown in their showers
And through our final dawn we slept
Wasting seconds, minutes, hours.
Time has wrought its vengeance well
As I sit here in the station.
Living without you is hell
And I'm lost in isolation.
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