Better Than I Was

I pour steaming milk into paper cups

and start conversations with new strangers

the awkwardness finally burning off

like a fever

but forgetting is a privilege

and I don't forget it

I drove up your old block

right past your apartment

the roommate you hated

was carrying boxes of something

Has your face gotten older?

Has your voice gotten lower?

I feel the same

but the world keeps getting slower

something inside of me says

I'm better than I was

I couldn't come over

so I met you there

and you'd grown a bit taller

same gray in your hair

that I saw on your mother

the day that I met her in Portland

You know,

Maine is such a pleasant place

so I could see myself getting in the way

as soon as I settle

I'll know I can't stay

Has my face gotten older?

Has my voice gotten lower?

I feel the same

but the world keeps getting slower

something inside of me says

I'm better than I was

and I heard the record that she had bought

in the coffee shop

but she had it wrong

because he writes of loss

and impermanence

It's not a break up song

While I pour steaming milk

into a paper cup

I start a conversation with a new stranger

who says that being left by someone

who don't get you isn't wrong

It's a favor

and you're so scared of getting old

and I'm so scared of growing slow

most of all we're scared

we're always gonna be alone

but even so something inside of me says

something inside of me says

something inside of me says

I'm better than before