I'm writing you a letter 'bout me turning off TV,
About that shit around --- I'm so tired to see.
I can't take it --- no more,
I've almost turned into a drinker, but I still miss you.
Had a telephone call, they wanted me to get up,
Dress myself and run like hell. "Hurry up, you copy that?"
And I replied "You, scram".
Said I was feeling ill and tired, and never slept last night.
I got no other hope. longing to hear from you.
Summer --- time days are numbered...
Gone...
We're in luck with weather, sure, it's been raining for three days.
When the forecast was: "Tomorrow clear and scorching everywhere".
Yet in the middle of nowhere,
Where I am, it's nice and warm, but guess it won't be long.
First we dine, then hit the bottle, happens day after day.
Not that we're devoid of fun, despite this flippin' rain.
I've been in silence for a while.
My tape recorder is dead, makes me feel content.
I got no other hope. longing to hear from you.
Summer --- time days are numbered...
Gone...
There's a crane across the street, some construction going on.
And the café at the corner has been closed for so long.
I've got a tulip on my table
In a mayonnaise jar, and a glass on windowside.
Know it never ever ends, years will pass and so my life.
For a hundredth time our toast, it lands butter down.
But I believe - a day will come,
Not a day - a nick of time, when we're out of bad luck.
I got no other hope. longing to hear from you.
Summer --- time days are numbered...
Gone...