Our Time - John Hiatt

I traced your arms as you laid spread out on the sunday paper

Looked like the crime scene of an angel ghost

I heard the gate clatter to on the elevator

I wrapped myself up in it like a cold beef roast

Fell asleep, was cooked medium and placed on a dining room table in brooklyn

Before an older couple surrounded by family and friends so wonderful and kind

I flashed back to you giving dollars to homeless men down in the bowery

Not before they convinced you it was for sandwiches and not for wine

I just could never convince you baby

This was our time

This was our time

This was our time

Now your feeding me fabulous chinese takeout on the dampened bed sheets

Our last supper so you might say

I woke up in a cold sweat and realized we’d never cooked one meal together

You always said, «why bother?»

with the cuisines of the world laid at our feet

here everyday

Then I thought of our first date back in nashville

We shared the pupu platter you enjoyed it with such gusto I took it for a sign

We would have many happy meals together in a warm dining room somewhere maybe

even brooklyn

That was way back then, and I was just another guy with food on his mind

But this, baby this was our time

This was our time

This was our time

This was our time

What did you have in mind?

This was our time