Doesn’t Mean Lonely

capo 3 Am Em
crackling fire in the corner
roasted Arabica mingled with spice
room full of people but I’m all alone
was a time when I wouldn’t thing twice

but the patter of rain on the window beside me
the rustle of pages in someone’s Moliere
the smell of somebody’s raspberry creamer
the shuffle of jeans on an old leather chair

alone doesn’t mean lonely (x2)

no blood on my hands as far as I know
no blood blood blood blood just like Lady Macbeth
that car was a wreck and I’m glad that it’s gone
and who needs a boss with onion-laced breath

Marvelous Toy on XM radio
the city’s a washing machine, so Jordan says
I’m stuck in the rinse as I wait for the fire
burning my ships on the shore like Cortez


another hot cup full of cow and of cane juice
the news coming off on my fingers and hands
another dead tree smearing smudges around
another dead life full of no-man’s lands

my pen can’t compete with the barb of your words
the Gordian knot in my head is undone
you broke the window and I paid the damage
when you gave your word it was some other tongue


maybe it means no more thinking about you
sometimes alone means better without you