And I will sit on this bench,
With needles in my brain
Dancing like they are knitting a scarf in your favorite color,
I will sit in the same place
Where you used to have your midnight cigarette
Where I had joined you
And the harmonies of our voices colliding in external thought
Made Beethoven rise from the grave
And while I sit here
I will wait for you
So that I may fall in love with you for another twenty-four hours
And we may return to our midnight cigarettes on the bench