Last Slice

We left the diner late,

the pie was long gone

The booth felt colder with the neon switched off

Your green concert wristband is still in the frame

Next to the keys that

no longer sound the same

And your roommate who heard every fight that we had

Wore that vintage jacket we bought

when we were glad She wore it anyway,

out in the street

While I watched the winter wind shake at my feet

Oh, why do the ghosts live in everyday things?

In the empty plates and the songs she still sings?

I’m holding the tickets we never got to use

Living in the space of the things

we had to lose (ooh,

we

had to lose)

Just a plastic band on the kitchen counter now

We let it go somehow (mmmmm)