I’ve been searching through old pencil memories The few I ever wrote down And somewhere in the notes there’s a song that I wrote On the night that I first left this town And I talked about distance my enemy That fence that would keep me from home All those friends far away, all those miles on a train, All that time I’d be spending alone And this one’s not for the travelers It’s not for the ones who stayed No this one’s for those I regret the most, The ones who I let drift away Now some voices sound natural on telephone All those crackling words in my ear All that binary talk, all the ones and the noughts That kept us alive all these years But for each name I kept in my calendar There’s a dozen I’ve only just seen There’s a glaze in their eye they can’t seem to hide When they hug me and ask where I’ve been And this one’s not for the bad times It’s not for the golden days No this one’s for those I regret the most, The ones who I let drift away And time… Taught me nothing You’d think all this time would help Well it seems after 22 years you start to repeat yourself And this one’s not for the travelers It’s not for the ones who stayed No this one’s for those I regret the most, The ones who I let drift away And this one’s not for the bad times It’s not for the golden days No this one’s for those I regret the most, The ones who I let drift away