O Gina I, thought I could take it away:
but the distance between 22 and 30 is too great.
And all that we talked about,
in that candle-lit room of yours
doesnt mean anything, when you're so far away

I'm sorry that I pretend that its not my fault
but I know, you might still dream about it.

Fall leaves fall down here
when I'm 1100 miles away
and how is Calhoun street?
Still dark and lonely?

I'm sorry that I cant fit into your '89 mould and be...
but maybe you are too old for me

though I couldnt tell if you cried in the hall
not that anyone would believe me

but you said you'd write letters in the fall
to me today, when Calhoun street's grey
Do you believe? But dont believe in me.
because I'm gagged and tied
this regret junkyard wont even let me try.
I dont know what to say, tell me something to say...