This isn't a courtesy

My throat is dry, I can't say a thing to make you alright. Hands at the side, chest so tight, the air's escaping. I can't pick up the phone, I hope you know that I'm missing your voice and that smile, that made me smile, made me smile too.

No where feels like our home, I won't sleep I hate that feeling when I wake up, it's empty.

I'm not sociable at the best of times, I don't like them here. Four by Five photographs have never meant so much to me. I can't concentrate on anything but the unseen things you do, that no one else know's about and they never will. You're too far away and it's killing me, I'm sorry.

Best laid plains are never much use, just exhale, I plead and ask to let this be the last apology. Rip out my fears, you can change me. I will dance another night and confess all the lies, I will forget, if you forgive. Take me back it's not safe outside.

Written by Chris Yeoman - 2003