When you get off at the station. I want to know, you got off for me. Not for a break between destinations. Not for a suddenly convenient occasion. When you get off at the station. I want to know you got off for me. Not in light of chasing off after you to different locations, Not in an act of most common amortization. When you get off at the station. I want to know you got off for me. I am not asking for a one way ticket but to be seen as a joyous avocation. I am not asking for perfection but an active amelioration. When you get off at the station. I want to know that you got off for me. But since you refuse there is nothing left now, but to speak true your disinclination. A most merciful act of extrication. Our final admitance, to our bifurcation. Now, when you get off at my station. The beep of the doors sounding to an empty an empty platform where the birds still pick at crumbs. Do not dare, say it is for me.