I don't know if it was real or in a dream,
lately waking up I'm not sure where I've been. 
There was a table set for six, and five were there,
I stood outside and kept my eyes upon that empty chair.
And there was steam on the windows from the kitchen,
Laughter like a language I once spoke with ease,
But I'm made mute by the virtue of decision,
And I choose most of your life goes on without me.

Oh, the fear I've known, 
that I might reap the praise of strangers 
And end up on my own. 
All I've sown was a song,
But maybe I was wrong.

I said to you the one gift which I'd adore,
the package of the next 10 years unfolding.
But you told me if I had my way, I'd be bored.
Right then I knew I loved you best born of your scolding.
When we last talked, we were lying on our backs, 
looking up at the sky through the ceiling.
I used to lie like that alone out on the driveway,
trying to read the greek upon the stars, the alphabet of feeling.

Oh, I knew back then
it was a calling that said if joy then pain, 
the sound of the voice these years later 
is still the same. 

I am alone in a hotel room tonight.
I squeeze the sky out but there's not a star appears.
Begin my studies with this paper and this pencil,
and I'm working through the grammar of my fears.

Oh mercy, what I won't give 
to have the things that mean the most 
not to mean the things I miss. 
Unforgiving, the choice still is 
the language or the kiss.