Dragged my body for blocks to stand in line for the show.
Kicked my heart across the pavement and then left it at the door.
They stamped me once, they stamped you twice.
We would've went our separate ways,
But this crowd was mixed and I didn't have enough cash to drown in alcohol.
So I stood with you at the balcony,
Took off my coat, and sighed.

"I can't imagine going to these things when I'm 24," you said, folding your coat over the railling, "I'd be so old."
"Well, I'm 22."
"Yeah, you're almost 24. It's just, can you see yourself going to concerts when you're that age?"
"I'm here now, aren't I?" If I had enough energy, I would've fought back. But I've been weak for years.
"I just can't see myself at a concert, you know, after graduating from law school and all."
I should've left, stood with my kind:
The one-stamps, staring at the ice sitting at the bottom of their party cups,
Never too old for live music.

But instead I stayed,
I watched a shitty band scream about love lost.
A bunch of two-stamps, chugging beers like frat boys,
While I silently tried to pass the time.

The lights of the club were blinding,
but better than the numbing routine of home.
It reminded me of something you told me once,
"What are you going to do after graduation? You're not going to law school anymore?"

I am no longer good enough for your dreams.
My dreams are not enough for you.
You don't want a never-been writer,
Who writes poetry about flowers growing in cement.

So I threw myself over the balcony,
Landed in a crowd of kids and liars.
Hands pulling at me, wanting something real.
But I've only got words,
So I let them drop me on the floor.
It's better here.

One day,
You'll see my name,
Written in print on the spine of a book,
And you'll wonder why you were only a footnote.

Tonight, tonight I let you go.
I left my heart at the door,
And went to bed alone.

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