[Verse 1] I sit by the window of the corner café Watch the lovers and the laughers pass the day Their mouths make words I somehow never learned Their eyes meet easy, something I never earned A girl throws back her head and laughs out loud A man reaches out and pulls someone from the crowd And I wrap my hands around my cooling cup And practice all the things I'll never say out loud [Pre-Chorus] I know every face that walks this street by heart I've written whole lives for strangers from the start But the door stays closed And I stay where I know [Chorus] I'm always on the outside of the warmth Always at the edge of someone else's storm I see the fire burning through the glass I press my hand against it and the moment's gone too fast I speak the language but I miss the door I've watched so many lives I almost know what living's for But almost isn't enough Almost isn't enough [Verse 2] There's a table full of friends who've known each other for years They're loud and close and careless with their tears I rehearse a smile, I almost pull the chair But something pulls me back into the open air I've read every book on how to let it in I know the theory, God, I know how to begin But theory is a map without a road And I keep carrying this quietly, alone [Pre-Chorus] I know the shape of what I'm longing for I've stood so many times outside that door But the handle's cold And I'm getting old [Chorus] I'm always on the outside of the warmth Always at the edge of someone else's storm I see the fire burning through the glass I press my hand against it and the moment's gone too fast I speak the language but I miss the door I've watched so many lives I almost know what living's for But almost isn't enough Almost isn't enough [Bridge] Maybe I was built for watching For the quiet, for the in-between Maybe that's not a curse, just a kind of seeing That most people will never know Or maybe I'm just scared Of what happens if they let me in And I find out I don't know how to stay I don't know how to begin [Outro] The café empties out by half past nine I leave a tip and walk back to mine The street is wet, the lights bleed on the ground And somewhere in a window, I hear laughter's sound I stop. I almost turn around. Almost.
