The cool of the night presses upon us and
you tell me to stop and I did.
I think with commitment you were always up
for the challenge of being with me,
a surfer, a useless rich poet
and fulltime idiot, somehow managing to make
you laugh and control you when you started fearing
the shadows of the past again.
I don't know how long it took you to collect
yourself and tell me to go again
but when you did you lost your voice 89 days later.
the baby's gone, no money can ever buy that back.
I thought I knew pain before this,
but you're a good girl, despite your past
and you never deserved this.
I don't know where to go with this.
I don't know and I am supposed to be the man.
