I could say I knew what life was,
Before I felt my time slipping away.
But now that you're so far gone,
It seems it's just a memory.

An hour's drive,
And each time,
He answers the door instead of you.

An hour's drive,
And each time,
He says so much more than you.

So why go outside,
Go anywhere at all,
If every time I leave,
I think of you.

And why would I write,
When every time I do,
I write about nothing,
If I do not ******* write about you.