Crying on the kitchen floor

Wishing she was here

Is not the life she wanted for you.



Put out the cigar and throw away the alcohol

Take a walk



Pack your bags, pick up the baby,

And sell this dump.

Sell the place,

Where it happened...

Where everything happened.

And run away..



Just have your time to cry,

and follow your dreams.

Raise that baby girl strong.



Years pass and you're having a rough time,

You go to a night bar.

You call for the bartender to order a beer.



You start walking about call for a taxi.

You check your cell phone for the time.

It's dead.

You have a voice-mail,

but no calls.

The voice-mail is from Heaven.



You are crying too much,

It's making her sad.

She hasn't moved for three years.

She calling for you..



She calls you on the same day,

Two years later.

This time you answer.

She says it's her from Heaven.

She wants you  up here with her.



It's your baby's fifth birthday..

That morning you have a stroke.

While she's running to phone she collapses.

With the operator of Heaven on the phone.