: by Paul Westerberg
' album Pleased to Meet Me
A lithe little accoustic song about missed opportunities and failed love, all surrounding the skyway, that Minneapolis pedestrian wonder.
You take the skyway,
High above the busy little one-way
In my stupid hat and gloves,
At night I lie awake
Wonderin' if I'll sleep
Wonderin' if we'll meet out in the street
But you take the skyway
It don't move at all like a subway
It's got bums when it's cold
Like any other place
It's warm up inside
Sittin' down and waitin' for a ride
Beneath the skyway
Oh, then one day,
I saw you walkin' down that little one-way
Where, the place I'd catch my ride most everyday,
There wasn't a damn thing I could do or say
Up in the skyway
Skyway (sky away)
And there sits one of my fears. I finally get up the nerve to say something to that person I've been watching every day, that person I've grown so enamoured with, even though I don't actually know the person. I'm no stalker, but I've been watching this person, trying to figure out who they are, trying to get up the nerve to even say "hi." Finally, I make that leap away from my everyday, my routine, and decide to talk to this person. But when I do so, they aren't there.
Now, did they change their routine to see me? Do they even know I exist? Did they come down to my street to talk to me, only to find I'm not there? Did they suddenly decide I'm not worth it? Or that I didn't want to talk to them after all? Or was it all an accident--did they have to change their routine for some reason, with no knowledge I even existed, and now my chance to talk to them, to seem natural about it, is gone?
And there isn't a damn thing I can do or say--I've missed my chance, and my bus.