All eyes on the calendar Another year I claim of total indifference To here, the days pile up With decisions to be made, I'm sure all of them were wrong Into this song I send myself And with these drinks I plan to collapse And forget this wasted year, these wasted years Devoted friends, they disappear And I'm sorry about the phone call and needing you Some decisions you don't make I guess it's just like breathing or not wanting to There are some things you can't fake I guess that it's typical To cling to memories you'll never get back again And to sort through old photographs Of a summer long ago or a friend that you used to know And there below His frozen face You wrote the name and that ancient date, that ancient date And you can't believe that he's really gone When all that's left is a fucking song and I'm sorry about the phone call; and waking you. I know that it is late, But thank you for talking, because I needed to. Some things just can't wait.
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