Said I’d walk to San Francisco
After everything was done
Thought the noise and moving busy
Kept my mind from really knowing what was gone

And when I finally saw it closing
All those miles above the bay
I was only standing closer to
The man I hoped to lose along the way

But If I’m being honest
Cause If I’m being honest
I would tell him

It’s a picture book
It’s a hospital gown
It’s an aspen tree in the summer breeze
She saw as waving hands
It’s a watching chair
And a holy company
Like a sailing ship
Hard wrought in it
That will never again float upon the sea

Well, I found that there’s a humor
In an old and fond goodbye
As if the early passing was a door
That she could look through with a smile
So If I’m being honest
If I’m being honest
I would tell her

It’s a pair of jeans
It’s a rude awakening
It’s a fine life lived in the privilege of standing there in the afterlight
It’s a photograph
Folded in my wallet
To remind myself that what she left
Is only growing bigger over time