I'm the brass rail keeping count tonight
Of empty coats and glasses out of sight
The jukebox stirs my memory like soil
When no one lingers at my stool
Stay for one last slow goodbye
Let the muted trumpet cry
I have learned your patient face
Through this worn and wooden place
Stay for one last slow goodbye
Till the morning catches light
I heard your footsteps through the falling rain
Like basil roots beneath a windowpane
You laughed in seasons I could never know
The nightshade bloom, then winter snow
You traced my splintered grain with careful care
And whispered Latin names to hanging air
The amaryllis turned its face to you
While streetlamps shook the shadows through
I kept your secrets warm beneath my crust
Stay for one last slow goodbye
Let the muted trumpet cry
I have learned your patient face
Through this worn and wooden place
Stay for one last slow goodbye
Till the morning catches light
The final round is trembling in your hand
The bar is sleeping in a softer land
Outside, the jasmine scents the darkened street
Your shadow slips beneath the closing feet
I feel the silence sinking through my grain
A little earth awaits your footsteps again
The door will find me waiting in the dark
With candle wax and one abandoned spark
The landlord counts the chairs beneath the moon
I'm rooted to the silence of the room
Stay for one last slow goodbye
Let the trumpet overflow
I have carried every scar
Of the things we planted here
Stay for one last slow goodbye
Turn the key and lock the light
I will keep your name in bloom
When you return beneath the silent room
The hinges breathe, the street lamps fade away
The last regular dissolves to soil and clay
I hold the answer deep beneath my grain
And wait for spring beside the windowpane
