Set The Fire To The Third Bar (with Martha Wainwright) I find the map and draw a straight line Over rivers, farms, and state lines The distance from me to where you'd be It's only finger-lengths that I see I touch the place where I'd find your face My finger in creases of distant dark places I hang my coat up in the first bar There is no peace that I've felt so far The laughter penetrates my silence As drunken men find flaws in science Their words mostly noises Ghosts with just voices Your words in my memory Are like music to me I'm miles from where you are, I lay down on the cold gound I pray that something picks me up And sets me down in your warm arms After I have travelled so far We'd set the fire to the third bar AWe'd share each other like an island Until exhausted, close our eyelids And dreaming (?) The last place we left off Your soft skin is weeping A joy you can't keep it I'm miles from where you are, I lay down on the cold gound And I pray that something picks me up and sets me down in your warm house I'm miles from where you are, I lay down on the cold gound I pray that something picks me up and sets me down in your warm house