Dear Malcolm, Dear Alwyn
You're my favorite singers in England
And I love you so much
You've got the Holy Spirit's touch
You're much more than just a two-man band
I got a memo from Turner, he's a poet
I'm a learner, And he says you're coming back to L.A
Well, I'll see you when you land
I hope your schedule's not too planned
I know you can't, but I wish you could stay

I miss you my friends, I think about you all the time
You're so far away - Well, I hope you're feeling fine
Beware of the snakes
And the robbers and the fakes
And the guys who always want a percent
You don't need them anymore
God is gonna close those doors;
I guess it's time to pack up your tent

Dear Malcolm, Dear Alwyn
I love the way you play guitar
(spoken): and that funny thing you hold in your hands
It's a harpsichord, no, it's too little for a harpsichord
Well, I don't know, but it's great... And you write such nice songs
And I don't know where you get your ideas from
But I have a suspicion
I miss you my friends
I think about so much of the time
You're so far away - I just know you're doing fine
Dear Malcolm, Dear Alwyn
You're my favorite singers in England
And your songs are so simple
But they take me to the temple, I guess I'm just your number one fan