Collecting the paper ticket,
                   I was there alone
                                at the bar.

A place of singles and I had a
                      receipt,
                      to show how
                      lonely I really was.

It said entry for one...

                   Exit for few,
who walk with more than they walked
                                                 in with...

But I only ever went home,
with a
          receipt of regret.
      
I made It in to a paper aeroplane,
           making my loneliness less obvious.
          floating in the wind, dancing on its own.