Left at London
Goodness
When I think of goodness
I think of you
Falling asleep on the floor of my room
Light from the tv painting us blue
And in the morning I’m still awake
Light from the window
Washed on your face
I trace the line of your form while wait

I wish that I could just stay in one place
Long enough to remember
The streets and the names
Of all of the places
Where I’ve stayed the same
Waiting around for something to change
When really the goodness
Was in everything
That I took for granted everyday

And maybe goodness
Is just what you make
Of every improbable day
That you get to wake up