I'm sitting alone nostalgic Kettle's been boiling for a while Water nearly gone What was it to be made Coffee, tea or brew of quince With a touch of tarragon In your antique pocelain mug A windfall from college days You called it a talisman Cast out of immemorial lands A sign you must take to heart And chase your feelings With reckless mind Without help from anyone... Feelings that show you the way Toward Elysian fields. The water is all but gone A drop or two for fond memories We might have beaten the odds Planting love in ******* mold But enchanted by dreams You chose to contain your love And follow the singings of your heart Though you have long been gone Your illusion still lingers on Tempting me to feed your love.