I ask you for your news sometimes just so
I can tell you about what troubles me.
A cowardly thing to do, yes, I know,
A selfish ploy, and I wish I could be
Honest and say it is to you I go
Before all other friends whom I could see,
But since we've been apart it's strange to show
That side that thinks of us in unity.
I turn to you with all these tales of woe,
Sometimes wishing to evoke memory
Of days before our passion fell so low
And you and I were happier as we,
Before drama and conflict were in vogue,
When sharing everything came easily.