Kingston, ON - Billy Raffoul

Force a wave and dry my face

On the day you took the train to Kingston

I know it was Waterloo

But that don’t sing quite as smooth as Kingston

I was young and I was dumb

I don’t know what the hell I was expecting

Of me at seventeen

I think it was Carole King, it must’ve been tapestry

That hung above the corner of your bed

Insignificant but in my head

I tried to write them out

But there’s too many things I miss about you

Subtlety has lost its touch

I don’t laugh all that much without you

Yesterday I bit my tongue

Called her by the name your mother gave you

She looked at me curiously

I said, «It was a song I had been singing»

She said, «Yeah?

Which one?»

And so I dug

I said it was Bruce Springsteen, something from The E Street

And began to hum, «Rosie, you’re the one»

She said that’s a lie but at least you tried

It’s not hard to figure out

That there’s so many things I miss about you

And if it were up to me, we’d be on Talbot street

Walking by the sunlight in your eyes

But it’s just a dream;

1, 2, 3

I hide the light behind you

I know that I will find you again, again