Atop my fruity hill i sit and ponder about my life and what is to come of it....then i think, Angel shut the hell up and eat an altoid. here we lay again on two separate beds riding phone lines to hear that familiar voice and pictures brought from memory we reflect on miscomunication and misunderstandings and missing each other two much too without you, let go we turn our music down and we whisper say what your thinking right now tell me what you thought about when you were gone and so alone the worst is over you can have the best of me we got older but we're still young we never grew out of this feeling that we wont give up
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