You went to France and bought me a wallet Now you won't absolve it, I'm indebted Now what were you saying with that kid's book you laid on me When I turned thirty, called People Get Mad But in me, I can't be the high and mighty Alone, unrested, no light to guide me You loved me back then, but you will not invite me in again We took a walk, seventy city blocks Held hands, burned up the clock, felt like no time at all You saw something in a window, stepped inside and I watched you go But nothing's still nothing no matter how you divide Now time is to batting like pain is to memory My words all come back saying why did you send me You heard me back then, but you will never hear me out again Baby, I should know when I'm drinking Everything that I'm thinking, everything that I am The blistering wind takes the skin right off me But it's just me and coffee in the morning again Way deep inside me is a room full of butterflies Frantically flying in an old wing of the museum Deep blue and orange like the sunrise that morning With you breathing beside me and the whine of the dogs Sorry's a word without grace or vision Pacing around like a crow or a pigeon You threw more than crumbs, but you will not invite me in again