Me and martha plimpton in an elevator
her golden labrador kissed my index finger
two in the morning, summer saturated
i'd been drinking and it'd been raining
and it felt so strange 'cause i didn't know what to say
and when she smiled i turned away
but that's so like my timid self
conscious crippling
she seemed so friendly and i must've seemed uninteresting
soaked from walking and smelled like booze and cigarettes
i stood there listening to hear light breathing
and i wanted to say that i really loved her films
and i wanted to make her laugh and smile but i stood still
i managed to mutter “hello”
her eyes shining in the fancy elevator lights
i stood awkwardly hands fluttering
the doors parted and she said goodnight to me
and her voice was like a song that wouldn't leave my head
and i thought “martha i'm running on empty”
and i couldn't help but think i'd missed another chance to live
but isn't that the way it always is?