Force a wave and dry my face On the day you took the train to Kingston I know it was Waterloo But that don't sing quite as smooth as Kingston I was young and I was dumb I don't know what the hell I was expecting Of me at seventeen I think it was Carole King, it must've been tapestry That hung above the corner of your bed Insignificant but in my head I tried to write them out But there's too many things I miss about you Subtlety has lost its touch I don't laugh all that much without you Yesterday I bit my tongue Called her by the name your mother gave you She looked at me curiously I said, "It was a song I had been singing" She said, "Yeah? Which one?" And so I dug I said it was Bruce Springsteen, something from The E Street And began to hum, "Rosie, you're the one" She said that's a lie but at least you tried It's not hard to figure out That there's so many things I miss about you Mmm... And if it were up to me, we'd be on Talbot street Walking by the sunlight in your eyes But it's just a dream; 1, 2, 3 I hide the light behind you I know that I will find you again, again