Aivan Karade Where to Meet People In Real Life, Third Place Soul

My walls are too familiar, the screen is too bright
I’ve been living in a vacuum since Tuesday night
I don't want a server, I don't want a thread
I want the smell of the bakery and the fresh-baked bread

I’m putting on my shoes, I’m leaving the keys
I’m looking for the shade of the sycamore trees
To the spot where the old men argue 'bout the score
And nobody’s checking who’s at the door

I’m trading my handle for a hello
Watching the pace of the afternoon slow
We’re not users here, we’re just people in line
And for the first time all day, I’m feeling just fine

Meet me where the porch lights stay on late
Beyond the screen and the garden gate
We don't need an invite, we don't need a code
Just the third place down at the end of the road

There’s a lady at the library who knows my name
Not because of an app or a digital game
But because I was there when the rain started down
And we shared a small table on the edge of the town

It’s the diner with the vinyl and the chipped coffee cups
It’s the dog park where all of the spirits go up
It’s the between in the life, the space in the middle
Where the meaning of living is less of a riddle

No terms of service, no policy here
Just a neighborhood holding the end of the year
We’re building a world out of handshakes and smiles
That travels much further than fiber-optic miles

Meet me where the porch lights stay on late
Beyond the screen and the garden gate
We don't need an invite, we don't need a code
Just the third place down at the end of the road

Hey, good to see you
Yeah, it’s been a while