You can keep the car

 

 

And I will keep the nights under the stars.

Maybe it is just the gin, without you I just sit and spin

On this fulcrum where your balance'd been.

And you forget that you, too, played a part.

Your innocence,  my guilt, is like some astrologic chart.

As if you rub your wounds with dirt

While from fresh gauze I knit a skirt

And flit the rim at other men.

See, always to your wounds I'll tend.

Because I love you though I left you and the things that love collects.

But I didn't mean to leave you scars

I meant to leave you nights under the stars.