I'd find a fatal flaw In the logic of love And go out of my head You love a sinking stone That'll never elope So get used to the lonesome Girl, you must atone some Don't leave me no phone number there
Strangers down the line Lovers out of time Memories unwind So far, I still know who you are But now I wonder who I was Angel, you know it's not the end We'll always be good friends The letters have been sent on
"I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up, running from one fallen star to another til I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion." --Jack Kerouac