In one month,
you will be gone.

You'll be half way around the world,
working in a desert while I,
sit here at home,
wishing I could be near you again.

In one month,
you will be gone.

Your truck will still be here,
I will still be able to ride in it,
but now I am the driver,
and will have no one to talk to.

In one month,
you will be gone.

You're going to be alone,
and I will worry about you everyday.
We will be twelve hours apart,
but will still try to talk everyday.

In one month,
you will be gone.

I'm going to miss you so much.