Two night stand, third floor walk-up
New York, the brink of autumn
I run and catch the last bus
Just in time

A penny on the sidewalk
The more that he and I talk
You Irish exit my thoughts
For the night

It's not a love match
My shoes on his front mat
It's not a must-have
But it's nice

One plane ticket will be taking me home
I might miss him but I probably won't
He tasted like a fresh start, like coffee and a question mark
And even if we'd passed you on the edge of Central Park
I don't think I'd have noticed it
Does that mean that I'm over it?

Eight months of walking backwards
Rereading finished chapters
Replaying moments captured
Funny how what I thought mattered

Fades in the darkness
Of a stranger's apartment
Fleeting and harmless
But it's nice
('Cause this time tomorrow)

One plane ticket will be taking me home (Taking me home)
I might miss him but I probably won't (I probably won't)
He tasted like a fresh start, like coffee and a question mark
And even if we'd passed you waving, standing on the cracking pavement
Traffic light at 108th, the edge of Central Park
I don't think I'd have noticed it
Does that mean that I'm over it?

Two night stand, third floor walk-up
New York, the brink of autumn
I run and catch the last bus
Just in time