I was walking out of the Quaff, roommate by my side
Heading up Broadway to my poorly parked car
And you came running out after me, yelling "John, John wait!"
And I told you earlier, you shouldn't call me that
Just because you can't remember my name
But you couldn't help yourself, I think

A group of drunk kids on scooters are racing past us
I'm looking at you while you look through me  
And John, actual John is glancing from you to me to you to the street
You look like you might kiss me
And John looks like he doesn't want to see it

So I remind you that you meant to head home hours ago
And you laugh and say you just might  
And a drunk woman is calling your name
And your eyes are glossy and far away
And part of me wants you to
And the rest of me just says "I'll see you tomorrow night"
And we go our separate ways
And I worry about you all night