It was a cold weekend in late November
we were sitting in the parking lot in your car
Savoring our soft afterglow
and i saw stories in the smoke

i saw raindrops and clouds
shoppers in crowds
i saw mothers and daughters
brothers and fathers

i saw street lights and stars
travelers in cars
i saw matches and lighters
partners and fighters

the smoke was setting with the sun
i said i really need to go
you said stay a little longer
and i saw stories in the smoke

i saw snow and the winter air
drivers and taxi fare
i saw schoolbooks and essays
students and cafes

i saw sunsets and fingertips
my lipstick on your lips
i saw class rings and old tattoos
all the things we’ll never do

so put your hand around my waist again
find my eyes and tell me what you see
because i want to know everything
i want to know the stories i saw in the smoke