Friend of the Bones

I met an actor, guitar hid behind his door Lent it to me after taught me these three chords I met a climber ten steps down the convent hall Brushed teeth together, swapping stories by the bathroom stall Are you a friend of the heart? Or a friend of the road? Since you came in I've been aching to know I met a fighter who hugged me tighter than most Warm as a fire burning a bit too close Are you a friend of the heart? Or a friend of the road? Since you came in I've been aching for a true friend of the bones Father told me, "In the city It's naive to believe people you meet Will see you, reach out, and fit like a glove They're busy running in the long run Search New York with a fine-toothed comb Every heart and every road Find what I found long ago You are your own friend of the bones"