So sad, so sad
I wonder what you're thinking right now
You have to be thinking
About something
Or else you're dead

Writing a letter on your wall
That's about you
It's two on one and I feel almost
Guilty in all this luxury
Almost

I can be there when you're sleeping
You're as good as I can be
I can be there in your dreams
You're getting to me

It's room five-two-five
In the morning
It's the third week of this
Prolonged stay. But
Not prolonged at all
Nothing different
In fact today could almost
Pass for yesterday
Where is love?
Who is love?
I have to know
I'm going nowherе
Only this time it's for real
I don't want a real job
I don't want a rеal life

Plainfield, Wisconsin
Home of Ed Gein
Can we go there?

I miss your eyes
I miss you, love
I hate

It's impossible
For me to write letters
What the hell?
It's impossible
For me to write letters
What the fuck?
So sad... (but not sad at all)

I can't do it without you
I don't mean "do it"
But I do