Sitting at a table with the clock ticking driving me mad
Find an envelope
Writing the same letter for the fourth time today
Addressed, to you, I guess
Emptying out then burning the memories away
But I still can’t get you out of my head
Want to know how it’d go if this message was read
The pen scratches with haste
With words my feelings make
Send away and hope
That I won’t be waiting by your letter box
To steal your mail and tear it up
Tomorrow