Off - lyrics

You didn't leave the light on
When I got home,
The house was dark
And I knew, I knew, I knew.

I told you I was sorry
Could you please forgive me
I'd thought that we could still be friends
But you went and froze me out

Waited a few days and then a few days more
Hoping you would open up
But you went away
And when you got back
You couldn't look at me

What am I to do
I fixed all that I could
And now a few more weeks have passed
But silence and stone are your way
You have made your choice
And so I see that I
Should go ahead and make mine
I cannot, cannot stay

You didn't leave the light on for me
You turned it off, turned it off
And I knew, I knew,
That you didn't love me anymore

But you didn't know
That I'd rather go
I'm gone

But I left that
light on

tonight we set out for the big view
the fancy one, the lights, the buildings
the capitol dome at the end of the avenue,
down the hill, and across the river
shining

we picked our way past the park with its
evening set of tweakers and stoners hiding
on the opposite side, hoping no one would notice them
and I  thought about the conversation one man had with me
yesterday or maybe the day before, it was warmer than I expected,
my sweater was too snug, and I was trying to defeat the yellow team
in the pokemon gym at the park entrance sign, when this man
standing a few yards away, motioned to my dog and called out to me
'is she friendly?'
it took me a second to realize he was scared
another to realize he was on something
but he seemed gentle and more afraid of my dog
than of anything else and I looked up and said back,
'oh yes, she's quite calm, pet her if you like'
he approached as I was almost done with the battle,
my thumb raging on my phone, and he begins to tell me
everything, the rehab, the move, the necklace he got from a homeless man
who wasn't wearing it as cool as he is now, and how he wanted to get clean
but how short that lasted, and he thought Austin would be the place to get clean,
and could I tell that he was on drugs, did he look all drugged out,
and I sat there, patiently, and decidedly realizing this man
was perhaps more important in that particular moment,
than my pokemon battle, which I did still win, but quickly put away
and I listened and listened
and wondered, what,
if anything,
I could ever do
for a person
like this

I was thinking about him as I passed the park sign tonight,
and I was still thinking about him as I rounded the corner and started down Oltorf
toward South Congress, and began to think that maybe I was more tired
than I thought, and I turned to go back on the alleyway shortcut

I thought it would be pitch dark
but it was lit up golden yellow
and it was so peaceful we just, we
had to go down.

When the firefly flew across my path, and up,
I remembered.

Golden glow of the ginger candle four years ago,
my mother's silver dream catcher earring hanging on the side
there was some ceremony in the lighting of the candle
the first mid-February night in Somerville Massachusetts, wrapped in sweaters
wool socks, and blankets, sleeping in my sleeping bag under
a pile of clean clothing I was too tired to fold and put away,
clutching my hands in their mittens together,
pretending someone was there with me, holding my hands
and wondering, if my friend Davina was going to live another day.
Each night before I went to bed, I set the kettle on the stove top
and sat with it in silence, lit my ginger candle, and looked at all of
my sadness.

I didn't ask it any questions,
I didn't plead with it to leave,
I let it quietly begin to tell me its stories
I didn't know how many it had.
They were beautiful.

The firefly flew away
the hands clutching in my chest released, I began to remember
this funny girl who bounced through the door each day,
who always picked up the early shift, who laughed.
Her boyfriend told us in the chapel on campus what it was like to fall in love with her,
he gave us this immeasurable gift, the images that could stay with us.
She would always put on her makeup a certain way,
he told us, and he would try to mimic her,
'No, up, up! Like this!' she would call out,
and they would laugh and laugh and laugh.
Tomorrow they gather again at school,
to see the classroom with her name now, by the door,
to feel that perhaps, some good, a small bit of good,
came out of it all
in the end.


I couldn't be there.
I couldn't go.
And it's okay, even,
I'm not sure
being there
would make me feel any better.

There isn't a lot out there that can make any of us feel any better.
My tweaker friend is looking for it.
I was looking for it just a few years ago.
Maybe the only reason I didn't lose myself
was because of the ceremony music
or the couple of honest friends
or the island with the brie
and the wooden box
of dates I ate all of
after not eating much
for a very long time.

Honey dog pulled me toward the apartment, and I let her go
on, no big city walk for us tonight, my traveling
was done. My heart's far away in New England,
and my soul is too. It's just us, now, these memories,
same ginger candle, same dreamcatcher charm,
same tea, same sadness, same me. It'll do.