Table 4

Will you come for me tomorrow in the bar at table four
I’ll be cleaning out my whisky glass and looking at the door
I’ll be looking up to toast your smile, to greet you eye to eye
To love you with finality when all else seems a lie

I’m reaching for the candlelight
With a matchbox in my hand
The smoke still forming circle eights
That I can’t understand
The shadows of a local band
Fall on my waiting face
The music notes and voices
Slipping by without a trace
Some dancers sway and tap a beat
The houselights on the floor
Create a pattern in my mind
That has me ask for more
I’m waiting for tomorrow
Or a time to pay my Bill
When the waitress grabs me by the hand
“It’s clear you’ve had your fill.”

Will you come for me tomorrow in the bar at table four
I’ll be cleaning out my whisky glass and looking at the door
I’ll be looking up to toast your smile, to greet you eye to eye
To love you with finality when all else seems a lie