I've spent the last four years of my life sleeping on top of the letters between us both,
and I don't know what that says about me,
but today I passed a broken down church the windows boarded up,
but you could still hear the music pouring out.
It made me think of you because you were always such a fixer-upper
but still carried beauty.
And maybe we've both been hiding from the truth,
and painting the rusted chains around gold.
You never keep a calendar because you hate counting days,
so you put up pictures of me instead,
and I don't know what that says about you
but yesterday I passed a homeless man
picking bits and pieces out of a garbage can
and it made me think that I really need to throw out those letters.