Grace

He walked her back to the train station

After dinner in the city

And he doesn't know her but he wished he could

And he talked to her but from where he stood

She looked a little more pretty

It seems that his words would go unheard

And I, and I don't regret

Those letters that I sent

And was it the smile or that accent

That brought me to madness

And I, I stir dirt with my heavy steps