Fish Fry

Stood up outside the fish fry
Hailed the Bahamian taxi driver
Furnished my dollar-twenty-five
Hopped on the Number Ten for a quick ride
Into the dull night
Singing praise songs
From the backseat under cold, fluorescent lights

Mostly, at night, I can't ignore
The feeling of wishing you were with me
All of my friends insist that I
Should really be spending some time alone
Assessing my thoughts
Completing emotional calculations
Deriving psychological sums and suffering slow

One more drink
My heart sinks
Eight weeks gone
Your ma's front lawn
White House Beach
I can't speak
Delaware
Where, oh, where are we?

Move out to 52nd Street
Put all my things in Jeff's new basement
See you before I up and leave
Tear out my hair and walk home wasted
Sleep through the alarm
In the morning, I still taste it
My good-luck charm
Head off to 30th Street Station

One more drink
My heart sinks
Eight weeks gone
Your ma's front lawn
White House Beach
I can't speak
Delaware
Where, oh, where are we?

I had that dream again last night
In the convenience store
There is no window in this room
Get up undressed
Make an educated guess
If it is morning yet
There's something I don't get

One more drink
My heart sinks
Eight weeks gone
Your ma's front lawn
White House Beach
I can't speak
Delaware
Where, oh, where are we?