On Saturday
I dropped by the French cafe
You know the name
You love these places
Some bleaker days
I won't even drive that way
Remember how rain
Just ruins my patience?
You used to say
These talks would be worth something
Oh, three mile prayers
Our half-mile graces
And I know the way
It's going isn't all that bad
Before all my pains
I still remember
Pretending magic at the City Walk turned to
Dodging your parents after dark
To try to get high in Woodbridge Park
How I cling to these old haunts
These old haunts
How I cling too...
How we thought this was our home
We thought we owned these places
But now that we're both grown
We can't afford to stay here anymore
I call you on the phone
To talk about the faces we knew
Seanan, Ziggy and the Wilkey girl
Her new short hair was the entire world
Unhooking bras under the Tilt-A-Whirl
How you know, too, these old haunts
These old haunts
These old, old haunts
You know too
So on Saturday
I sat at the French cafe
Just eating away my fruitless chases
Of some better days and pining for what we had
Through all of my pain
I barely remember
Pretending magic at the City Walk turned to
Dodging your parents after dark
To try to get high in Woodbridge Park
How I cling to these old haunts
These old haunts
These old, old haunts
I cling to
I cling to
I cling too