Porch Light Rendezvous

You left the porch light burning on the drive I still dial

the digits but they don't arrive Some stranger has your old number

now

In a rising lift,

heading up somehow Staring at the buttons,

static on the air

Drafting a message they will never send Elevator elevator,

waiting for the end (mmm)

Oh, the porch light is still on But the connection is gone

Almost sending the words in a crowded space With bad music playing

in a concrete place (yeah)

Subway busker playing for the afternoon crowd Echoes in the tunnel,

making quiet feel loud Your old number's new owner feels the same

Holding their phone, deleting your name

Porch light... left on...

In the station... (hummm)