Does This Mean You’re Moving On?

And the funny thing is it has no end,
I try to call you up at 2a.m. in a crowded bar.
Your ringer tones, crowd my mind.
I can see you through the phone
[the phone, the phone]
lying wide awake at home.
[at home, at home]
So I think I'll see my coquette and hope
you don't catch the bourbon on my breath.
[my breath, my breath]

I catch a cab outside on 7th Street
and the cars fly by through the Bowery.
I come to your door and I hear a moan,
then another voice, Oh Christ, she's not alone.
[alone, alone]
And my heart sinks like a stone.
[a stone, a stone]
And the tears won't even come, I feel so numb,
so swept aside, so dumb.
[so dumb, so dumb]

When the words are wrong and my patience gone,
will you tell me does this mean you're moving on?

From the balcony you call my name,
I see you standing in the rain:
your words so dry, your face so wet,
you say I broke your heart, but it hasn't happened yet.
I'll bet, your friends all hate me now.
I get the strangest looks from that bitchy crowd.
And though they must think they have every reason to,
I guess I'm still not quite yet over you.

When the words are wrong
and you're hanging on another guy's arm,
does this mean you're moving on?