At the End of the Line

I'm long gone, honey babe, far away from my home

went out to find myself, just found myself alone

Late night trains since don't run the way they're supposed to

It's been months since I've been near anyone I was close to

At the end of the line, wildflowers grow on the track

I'd return to the cities of my youth if I knew the youth'd come backI was holed up in my hotel, I got a telephone call

Girl down in the lobby, girl I didn't know at all

Her last night in the city and her friends left her behind

She had some thoughts and a bottle of wine

could she come up and talk a while

But Lord I know what talking leads to

At the end of the line, I had only one thought

Whenever something's free, usually then you're not

F-train to Coney Island, corridor to my room

Yellow wine in summer, the subway's sweet perfume

Its in the air around m clothes, it's in the bookstores you lived above

Sometimes a city is one too many, and a thousand ain't enoughAt the end of the line I'm reading to myself

Of all the spring afternoons in bare, could it have been anybody else

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