It was summer of ninety-three
When our love started to grow
We dreamed of bigger things for ourselves
When I moved to Michigan
The air was too thick
For me to breathe
And I took this pen and paper
and I sent you this words
And I had much like the coward I am
afraid of nothing and everything hurts
Where have you gone these days?
When will you come back?
Hold you where your heart is.
And I am sorry for my persistent
I promise this is the last time I write