Two Cups Tomorrow

Six AM, the kettle starts to scream

I pull two ceramic mugs down from the shelf

Pouring coffee, watching rising steam

For a moment, I am someone else

I carry them to the table by the glass

Set yours down right where you used to sit

Waiting for the morning fog to pass

Before I realize what I just did

Oh, the habit of you

runs deep in my hands Making breakfast for two

in a house built for one

Now one cup grows cold,

right where it stands

While I watch the rising of another lonely sun

They say time will wash the memory clean

But I don't want to lose the shape of your face

So I'll keep on living in our old routine

And leave a little room in your empty space (ohhh)

Tomorrow I'll probably do it again

Two cups of coffee,

waiting on the wind (hmmmmm)