I see the lights through the window
Forming shapes in your ceiling
We lie in bed and you look at me
You don't say what you are thinking
But you smile and get closer.

I hear the traffic through my window
Keeping me awake till late at night
Too late to say what I was thinking
That time I wanted to stay
But left anyway.

I can still hear you teasing me
When I'd steal your cigarettes
I only smoked with you
And I miss smoking.

It is too late to sing
‘Wish you were here’
At the park in early spring
Under rainfall and bad covers.
It is too late to ride bikes
To race by the river trail
Fast through flashlights
A thousand stars beneath us.
It is too late to write
About signs and fights
In the drunken crowds
Too late to see a light
I blame this darkened room
Songs, sights, sarcasm, you.