I’ll pick you up in the morning
and meet you at the station,
outside the dilettante café.
And you can tell me how you spent the night,
sipping bourbon in the candlelight
waiting for the house to get quiet.
Ooo ooo
Now you’ve packed your bags
with your most convenient rags.
It’ll be a while before he notices you’re gone.
‘Cause he’s out again with some new and nameless friends
as another drunken night turns to dawn.
This is how you’ll start your new life.
Put a hundred miles between what’s wrong and right.
Pulling at the seams, all the lies and the in-betweens.
He don’t deserve to hear you say goodbye.
And the house looks small
from outside the door.
No, you’ve never ever seen it
from this view before.
And this is where I’ll pick you up,
outside the old café.
And I won’t trouble you with loads of conversation.
No, I won’t persuade, or ask you to explain
how this became the first day of your new life.
Ooo ooo