Pints

it could have been the dead of winter
the cold uneven evenings
that threw my timing off

the night is unending
and there were days when that was fine
but blackness is blinding

forget that I forgot you
those days when you said I needed you most
it's not easy being generous in poor times

over another cold drink
your face in every bubble
the song on the radio knows

the walking away wasn't hard
sitting here thinking about you
only confirms it