California by Copeland
I miss the way you sing low
so I can’t hear your voice over the radio in my car.
You knew every word they sang.
You know just the right things to say
when the distance rips us farther and farther and farther away.
I’ll see you soon, if you’re coming back this way again.
Come back to California.
All of us here in florida are starved for your attention.
Maybe I fell too fast.
Maybe I pushed you away.
Now you’re gone and I’m afraid you’re never coming back this way again.
I won’t mind if you monopolize all of my time.
I won’t say a thing at all.
I won’t say a word.
� 2003 Militia
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