There are songs that stick with you and always just drift back into your head based on moments and times and they have this magical way of flooding your senses and soaking you to the bone with thoughts and,  yes, this is a run on sentence and I don’t really care…
“The Only Living Boy In New York”

Tom, get your plane right on time

I know your part’ll go fine

Fly down to Mexico

And here I am

The only living boy in New York
Of course, when I sing along I change “New York” to “the world” because:

1) never in New York that much

2) never felt alone in New York

And it’s this line that just slays me every time…
Half of the time we’re gone but we don’t know where

And we don’t know where…