Un Dernier Verre (Pour La Route)

Come, sit at the table under October's able skies, Once we'd seen eye to eye, I'd known that I'd pass you by, and I tried. The bell's chime, telling times, Completed and lined, The world moves on, I find, No, but I, learned of time by your hands. And in shallow waters, then, I learned not to swim but to lie, I await for none, ten or twenty to burn out I insist on doubts, We're already laying on the glass, the glass.