Lyrics
He orders something amber and he doesn't check his phone Keeps his coat on like he hasn't quite decided he'll stay His hands around the glass like they've been carrying something heavy And I'm building him a life from what his eyes don't say Maybe he came in from somewhere Maybe that's a wedding ring Maybe he's the kind of quiet That follows a hard thing Or maybe I just need A story in the room tonight Somebody else's trouble In the low light Stranger at the next stool Close enough that we've been sharing air Stranger at the next stool A whole life I'll never know is sitting there We're two planets In the amber and the almost-dark Stranger at the next stool The nearest far away I've found so far He shifts his glass an inch like he might speak and thinks it over I feel the moment close the way a door does when it's missed We've been two planets in the same small orbit for an hour I think he might be lonely too — but I've been known to fill in blanks like this He's got a particular stillness The kind that isn't peace More like someone who's been asked Too many questions this week And I recognize the posture From the inside out So I leave him to his silence And his doubt Stranger at the next stool Close enough that we've been sharing air Stranger at the next stool A whole life I'll never know is sitting there We're two planets In the amber and the almost-dark Stranger at the next stool The nearest far away I've found so far He settles up He buttons his coat Gives me that nod that strangers give — Small, complete He takes his story with him out into the street And leaves me with the version I believed Stranger at the next stool The empty place is still warm Stranger at the next stool I've already started to forget your form We were in the same night That's the most that strangers get Stranger at the next stool I hope your drive home's safe