Ticket Stub

Maybe I slipped from your pocket

during the mad dash to your seat-

or maybe the excitement of hearing him live

surpassed your ability to remember me

once you were inside the stadium...

either way, you're gonna miss me

when I'm gone. You're gonna wish this

wasn't our last goodbye.

You're gonna want me for scrapbook

memories, and I'll wait for you love-

down here on the cold concrete

of this busy concert hall.

You'll drink more than you ought to drink

while hypnotized by strange delight,

while I sit here, my tattered edge

a torn memory of when I was with you,

in your loving hand on the way

to see the Jeff Buckley band.