Better Than I Was

I pour steaming milk into paper cups and start conversations with new strangers the awkwardness finally burning off like a fever but forgetting is a privilege and I don't forget it I drove up your old block right past your apartment the roommate you hated was carrying boxes of something Has your face gotten older? Has your voice gotten lower? I feel the same but the world keeps getting slower something inside of me says I'm better than I was I couldn't come over so I met you there and you'd grown a bit taller same gray in your hair that I saw on your mother the day that I met her in Portland You know, Maine is such a pleasant place so I could see myself getting in the way as soon as I settle I'll know I can't stay Has my face gotten older? Has my voice gotten lower? I feel the same but the world keeps getting slower something inside of me says I'm better than I was and I heard the record that she had bought in the coffee shop but she had it wrong because he writes of loss and impermanence It's not a break up song While I pour steaming milk into a paper cup I start a conversation with a new stranger who says that being left by someone who don't get you isn't wrong It's a favor and you're so scared of getting old and I'm so scared of growing slow most of all we're scared we're always gonna be alone but even so something inside of me says something inside of me says something inside of me says I'm better than before