I used to write, just for you.
You used to be my worldly muse.
You took each day, and erased the blue.
You made me know just what to do.

I used to write, to tell you things.
About my soul, and how it sings.
About my heart, afloat with wings.
But now, the phone, it barely rings.

I used to write, to hear your voice.
I used to write, without a choice.
I used to write, and then rejoice.

I used to write.