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I didn’t know what to say to her, I couldn’t find my pen. Before I could lay the blame on her, the pen resurfaced, she hid it on purpose, it’s all just so typical. And if things grind to a halt, I can always say that it never was my fault.

I don’t know what I told her, but it must have been the wrong thing. And I should offer her my shoulder, but I’m wearing my new shirt, and salt stains it worst. It lays there in rings and leaves behind the hurtful things I didn’t know I said.

I don’t know where I walked last night when she sent me on my way. Thinking we’d had a blow-out fight, when we never raised our voices or made each other’s choices, so that when she told me to get out, I stayed.


from New England Music (1996), released May 21, 1996




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