On Saturday I dropped by the French cafe You know the name You love these places Some bleaker days I won't even drive that way Remember how rain Just ruins my patience? You used to say These talks would be worth something Oh, three mile prayers Our half-mile graces And I know the way It's going isn't all that bad Before all my pains I still remember Pretending magic at the City Walk turned to Dodging your parents after dark To try to get high in Woodbridge Park How I cling to these old haunts These old haunts How I cling too... How we thought this was our home We thought we owned these places But now that we're both grown We can't afford to stay here anymore I call you on the phone To talk about the faces we knew Seanan, Ziggy and the Wilkey girl Her new short hair was the entire world Unhooking bras under the Tilt-A-Whirl How you know, too, these old haunts These old haunts These old, old haunts You know too So on Saturday I sat at the French cafe Just eating away my fruitless chases Of some better days and pining for what we had Through all of my pain I barely remember Pretending magic at the City Walk turned to Dodging your parents after dark To try to get high in Woodbridge Park How I cling to these old haunts These old haunts These old, old haunts I cling to I cling to I cling too