Chyeanne called me last night.
She told me that she wanted to be home,
and I could feel the longing
instilled with every word
her weary voice spoke.

But I don't know if I can leave them, Chyeanne.
I just don't think that they'll understand.
And although I love the way the sunset looks in your eyes,
we will always be
distant lovers
for what could
have been.