Been Thinking

And I've been thinking
about the way you left me there,
the last day I'd seen your eyes,
Standing confused and alone,
cursing the rain
as I stomped through the streets
back to the subway alone.

Counting Crows playing out every feeling
I've had about that day.
And he screams he's down on his knees,
his anguish of the girl's very needs.
I too am drowning, here
on my own Sullivan Street,
I'm struggling just to hear.

I'm in the desert now,
drying out from the incessant Seattle rain.
2,419 miles stretch out between us;
almost a straight shot
through the waste land,
crying out in broken echoes
in the night as I call out your name.

And I think again about that day,
wishing there were a way back to where we were.
No New York, no Brighton Beach or K&K
to ever darken our hearts again.
How about Toronto or Santiago or Medellin?
Or, perhaps, an adventure in our own back yard?
Just help me stop thinking about that day.