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