Rise with the morning, you call to me.my thoughts are are racing and my heart aches, you're all I can think to of this moment.
Darting down the pavement on an old street searching for something Im missing, but what? "there" I thought the telephone booth. I scramble searching my pockets for change funding a single dime. pushing it into the machine and dialing that number the one that makes my heart ache every time I hear that smooth husky voice of his crack as it was put through so much but tries to hide such burdens.