Anyway

And because I have no means to face you,
I bury my nose back into my book;
The sun blinds you, anyway,
You manage not to look towards me.

Send me a note later on,
Leave it wedged on the loose floorboard,
It's customary now, anyway,
I'll read it and keep it and maybe reply.

And since I don't understand,
How come it's so hard to see each other again,
I avoid us, (you are, anyway)
It's truly much easier than I thought.