Me and Martha Plimpton in an elevator,
her golden labrador kissed my index finger.
Two in the morning, summer saturated,
I'd been drinking and it'd been raining
and it felt so strange
cuz I didn't know what to say,
and when she smiled I turned away.
But that's so like me, timid self conscious crippling
she seemed so friendly and I must've seemed uninteresting.
Soaked from walking and smelled like boozed and cigarettes,
I stood there listening to hear light breathing
and I wanted to say that I really loved her films
and I wanted to make her laugh and smile
but I stood still.
I managed to mutter "hello,"
her eyes shining in the fancy elevator lights.
I stood awkwardly hands fluttering
the doors parted and she said goodnight to me
and her voice was like a song that wouldn't leave my head
and I thought martha i'm running on empty.
And I couldn't help but think
I'd missed another chance to live,
but isn't that the way it always is?
The way it always is...
[whoas]