The spot three quarters up I'd always touch when I was out of things to say.
You ain't held my hand, but you were too afraid to speak and I could never understand.
I remember when you leaned in quick to slap me, and I swear,
that not a single force on earth could stop the trembling of my hand,
And I remember how you smiled through the smoke
in a crowded little house and laughed at all my jokes.
And I remember the way that you dressed and,
how we wasted all the best of us in smoke and sweat.