* * *
Good morning dear, I hope I didn’t wake you too soon.
Because my mind is growing tired, too much thinking what I should do.
I picture you out there, It must be beautiful this time of year.
All those south coast leaves, floating round like embers from burning trees.
Well the weather out here is just the same, but do you think about me when you alone? The thing we used to do and the thing we used to be? You know that i could be the one who make you feel that way, and i could be the one who set you free.
Now it’s only work, each day bleeding into the next. Barely scraping by I tire myself out just so I can rest.
But rest it rarely comes, and when it does I cannot go home. Because it’s much too quiet, seems that I’m not suited to being alone.
And everyone around me changed.
But i remember, this is isn’t the way that we used to be.
I think about you maybe more than I should, but the smog is getting old, the drugs I’m taking aren’t so good. So will you talk to me? Even though you’ve had a late night.
Because I need a little help.
Baby, tell me I’ll be alright….
* * *