i was to write a song about you, it would be called "wasted breath"

it's for all those good times we never had

like down in the city, when the weather was changing abruptly

because it didn't have a reason to rain

and i know, things are adding up. it's soon to show

take it easy on me, and don't forget to call me when you're

home from wherever you flew

i'd love to run away with you

i've been living in sorrow

see you on the day after tomorrow

but from now until then

or something like that

i think i'm going to spend my time at home

writing novels of "boy to manhood"

and redefining "loss of innocence"

watching some hockey

because it's the playoffs,

i might even drink some canadian beer

but no matter how bored and drunk i get

i will never write a song about you.

i'm sprouting like a bean sprout.