I remember our day at the Bombay CafГѓВ©, when I found out love ain’t enough.
An old man at the bar tossing dreams into jars, said, «girl he ain’t gonna show up.»
And I stood there a mess and uncertain,
‘Till he walked through the break in the curtain.
I said, «I knew you would come.»
He said, «I can’t love anyone.
Everything I am, and everything I do, just pulls me back to you.»
I remember our day at the Bombay CafГѓВ© my hair getting soaked by the rain,
And your hand held my own till a river of stone pulled them apart at the veins.
But we fought it, you know, like the wind fights the snow.
But that’s how everything goes.
I remember our day at the Bombay CafГѓВ©, most other things I can’t recall,
And I can’t recall just how I got here today,
Standing right over your grave.
He said, «I knew you would come.»
I said, «I can’t love anyone.»
Cause I remember that day at the Bombay CafГѓВ©,
And there can’t be another one.
