Your golden frame which I once held so dear Trickled between my fingers like the unlucky prospectors Me, cursing the wind, never saw it coming For days I could barely breath, Ive been trying to bring myself to the arms of another But every time I get close enough Iām reminded of you A scent carried, or a crack in their smiles, What a fever this is, this thing called love Hopefully the right prescription will do the trick, Enough liquor to drown an ocean, and rewatching Barbarella for the 10th time is just what the doctor ordered.