I'm long gone honey babe, far away from my home Went out to find myself, just found myself alone Late night trains 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 tracks I'd return to the cities of my youth If I knew the youth would come back I was holed up in my hotel room When I got a telephone call The girl I saw in the lobby, girl I didn't know at all It was 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 And at the end of the line, I only had one thought Whenever something is free, usually then, you're not F-Train to Coney Island, the corridor to my room Yellow wine in summer, the subway's sweet perfume It's in the air around my clothes, lord, It's in the bookstore you lived above Sometimes a city is one too many, and a thousand ain't enough And at the end of the line I'm reading to myself Of all the spring afternoons in bars Could it have been anyone else?