I know that it's possible that you're back in the hospital
And your phone's out of juice
and that's why you couldn't respond
I disappear into songs while I wait for the train
And I sing to myself and find ways to spend all my change

Turns out these big black cars aren't really so fancy
There's smoke in the seats and the drivers
they get so enraged
I'm sure that wherever it is that you are isn't lonely
But I'm hoping it's safe
Yeah, I'm hoping it's safe
You know what they say

I think it's quite likely that you're out in the booths by the back
Draining away what's left of the late afternoon
In the absence of you, this place just feels huge
It's too much for just me but right now I don't want to move

Sometimes it feels like these buildings
they keep me in shadows
Sometimes it seems like they're whispering
something that hurts
I hope you'll commit to stay on that new medication
You gave me your word
Yeah, you gave me your word
But now here's what I heard

They sent me your card, it tore me apart
We ate at the bar, they picked up the check
They wrecked any chance of this year being the one
Some days just don't come, it's a lie like the train
Stand by the stairs, watch the week wash away
Saw your sister at Bourbon, she says
that you're mostly okay

She said when she saw you at Christmas
you seemed pretty healthy
That you live with your folks and work at a kitchenware store
She thinks that your friend with the death wish
went back to Ohio
But she's not really sure
She's not really sure
But that's what she heard

when we used to choke you outside the Paramus?
Did you ever predict we'd split into two different trains?
Maybe these big black cars are some indication
Of what it means to be free
Of what it means to be free
What it means to be free