It’s a late December evening, and the clouds are leaking light The rain is holding steady as the day returns to night I’m standing by your graveside, and it isn’t real for me In my mind, you’ll be behind me, waiting as I turn around But deep within my heart I know you’re deep within the ground I long to feel you near me like you always were ‘cause this isn’t real for me Chorus I was so alone, and I owe you so much You brought me back to life with your golden touch I am down on my knees, just come back for me please I’m still waiting for the punch line, for you to tell me it’s not true I won’t return to Baker Street, ‘cause it’s not my home without you. The skull you used to talk to still rests on the mantlepiece Your eccentric way of seeking intellectual release I’m glad that I could help you in the time we shared, in the way that you helped me And I miss the sound of your violin ringing out each day The sound is absent from my ears, ‘cause you no longer play 221b is just too quite now, and it isn’t real for me I will not say goodbye To all the memories I treasure The ones I’ll keep safe And the ones I’ll keep forever I will never see you as anything Other than the great man you were