When you pulled into my driveway, threw open your door,
and said you thought I might need you, I thought about timing.

When we drove with no destination at two AM, watching the city lights
and smoking too many cigarettes
I thought about timing.

When you turned on the radio,
we fell into perfect, loving, comfortable silence.
I thought about timing.

When I took your black hat,
drank a little to much whisky, and looked into eyes that seem to understand my wanderlust
I thought about timing.

When I opened my door,
turned on the lights, and
crawled into my cold bed alone
I realised timing is everything.