A million moments in your TV-filled life
collide with mines at this table tonight.

It's like Home Alone 2 the way I stare
and you smile like this instant has always been there.

I laugh back and wave, cause I'm a sucker for warmth these days.
The weather's so cold when old friends slowly fade.

"Hey can you pass the Ketchup?" I decide to say.
"It's a bit spicy, good luck," and you pass it my way.

I know it's not much, but my Wednesday touches yours.
We're friends for a moment, and I couldn't ask for more.

Remember that day we glided along rice fields,
me and you lagging at the back,
while the 12 of us pedaled bicycles?

The clouds drooled down daylight,
and I was feeling lonely and crap.
You glanced back on the road and waited. "You alright?"

your eyes said.
And we chatted about our problems, time chopping away on an x-asis,
as we passed fields, motorbikes, and watersheds.

Those shared moments every day
with you, our friends, and our Vietnamese teaching staff,
it aligned my universe like a human astrolabe.

I'm so glad our group traveled across the world,
riding bikes and drinking beer unbounded by maps.
It ***** being home now, far away. I miss you and I'm always bored.