Stories

She sits in the corner Where it's reasonably quiet Drinking coffee with cream Thinking stories of young love She calls to the waiter 'Won't you lend me some time? You can sit by my side And I'll let you be friends with mine.' The cafe is old But the candlelight's new She orders Beaujolais wine And says 'I've thought of you too' She whispers 'Isn't it odd You remind me of songs That I'd rather forget Like feelings I longed for You haunt me inside Sometimes I recall Question mistakes Who grew to nothing at all' I hear voices that cry And one of them's mine All the things I could say Are the reasons I can't She says 'I've seen you before In thoughts I call 'son' Like an old film with sound When the link comes undone' The waiter is me And the woman is you And we are the story Just like others I knew