On His Guitar

He says he's desperate for living
Wants to go back to L.A.
Can't take another New England winter
He gets cold so easy now
He gets old so quickly now
He's almost sold himself on going

And I hear it all on his guitar
I can tell from the way he plays
That he doesn't want to leave me
But believe me he could leave me
For another boy's L.A.

He says the air's too thick here
It gets clogged up in his throat
So the words come out wrong
And the songs come out weak
And he's getting strong enough
To get up and leave

And I can hear it all on his guitar
I can sense it in the way he stays
He's stuck here and he's drunk here
And he's lucky and he'd leave
If there actually was a somewhere

It's not the unwashed promises
It's not the dirty poetry
It's not the bubbly depression
It's not the perky problems
That we face everyday

It's that I can't compete
With the idea of a place

And I can hear it on his guitar
I can take it far
And not take it far enough

I can be tough
I can be blue
I can be better and sick
And healthy and you

And when he sells his guitar
I'll know

I'll know
That he'll go

'Til then I just keep leaning
On his guitar