She was sitting there in her grey cardigan and self-satisfaction
And she said, "They're going to be putting a cap and gown on a chair for him."
And I said, "That makes me so sad. It makes me think of our 8th grade graduation.
Oh god. That makes me so sad." picturing a freshly ironed gown for a dead graduate

It was a few minutes later and the kettle began to whistle
And someone made some smart remark about some stupid topic
And I sighed and I said, "I just can't do it"
And she said, "Jeez, you’re just lacking emotional maturity today”
I excused myself and avoided her for the remainder of the day

I found myself a few people I might consider my friends (if anyone)
I sat down for a minute and said, "I just can't do it"
And the one turned his cigarette-yellowed teeth to me and said,
"They just aren't as cynical as you, huh?"
And I looked him in the eye and he smiled, meant nothing by it
Maybe just, "Shut up, will you? Just breathe for a minute"
And the other, with his slicked back hair and Tom Waits voice
Said, "Not everybody can be a female Louis C.K."
And I smiled and said, "***** you"
Then I excused myself

And I found myself a quiet corner where I could collect the pieces enough
To hold myself together for two hours of calculated performance
Until I could go home
And quietly fall apart again

The gods gave you these feet to run, run, run. Walk, stumble, fall. Stand.
The gods gave you these feet to break, to heal, to wander all your days

When your pretty face holds those bright eyes to the ground,
Walk, walk, walk
They can't take that from you

This dirt road has been travelled
But these grass roots are waiting for you

When these feet can take no more, the gods will call you home
Still but ever-moving,
You are the wanderer
The gods wait to meet the hands that match those feet

One for the pain
two for the madness
one for the grief
one to sleep

It adds up
as it breaks you down
but it means well
it means to stand in place for all the missing pieces of you
but the truth is it can't

this cracked foundation
is patched up
with crumpled newspapers bathed in toxic ink

they mean well
the one for the pain
the two for the madness
the one for the grief
and the one to sleep

but the truth is
the ground is breaking
I was founded in swamp

You were here on holiday, only stopping in on the big move to England
And I was just a lost girl, a little wandering wonder,
And so I was here for 90 days, and I knew you for two

We met in the afternoon in a pub
It was that *****, early 20's, new and a little exciting kind of thing

And you had an instant fan in me
You were smart, you were funny, well-dressed and fairly kind
And you talked about all the stupid things I liked

And I watched your strengths and I wondered if you too saw your weaknesses,
And I loved that you were afraid to cry at the new Star Wars premiere

And so we got a little tipsy, paid the tab and left to find ourselves more sweet, sweet beer at a more reasonable price for two such kids

And so we got drunk on a park bench on €1 beers

And we listened to your scattered songs
And we kissed in those old Spanish streets as if we'd been in young love for centuries
When it had really only been about 3 hours since we'd seen each other first

But it was good, and it was nice, and we both needed it, I think

So the next day we met again
You were just as funny, just as kind, and this time, even more well-dressed, in your smart leather shoes

And we did it all over again on day two
The pub, the beers, the bench, the tacky kisses and the bits of banter

And the next day, you left

But we still keep in touch
And I'd like to see you again
I'm hoping for a day three
I'm a big fan of yours