Last time I saw him we weren’t really talking
He said: Hey, how’re you living? How’s life been treating you?
Was at the Good Luck Bar before they closed down
About a month before I left town
Oh, how we drift away from our friends
And the ones back home pay remembrance
You can take me out of your phone
If you come knocking I won’t be home
Finally met for lunch after weeks of pushing
And the kitchen had dried out just as we were getting drinks
Settled in on gossip and restaurants and nonsense
And I wish I was as clever as they think
Oh, how we drift away from our friends
And the ones back home pay remembrance
You can take me out of your phone
If you come knocking I won’t be home
Home
Twenty thousand years ago, can you even imagine
In the Chauvet caves women painting on the wall
Pictures of their memories, pictures of their stories
Pictures of their love affairs, pictures of their worries
I wonder if they ever dreamt of us at all
At all
Oh, we stand on their bones and walk on their souls
And the children who lived grew into women and men
And painted over their mothers’ work again and again
Again and again
Oh, how we drift away
Oh, how we drift away
Oh, how we drift away
Oh, how we drift away
