You know what I'm thinkingnNo, I don't mean that as a questionnNot as a way to say how close we once werennNow that I've got you on the linenThese calls coming more oftennI'm thinking I should tell you I guess I met someonennBut no, I leave that fact outnIt's just nice to finally hear from younAfter all those months of pain and pills and programsnnSo I hang up the phonenI know you're still doing your thingnOut in CaliforniannNew York hasn't changed the way I sleepnBlankets and covers pulled close to menBut instead of you there's a slightly taller bodynnShe's a woman of style and classnBut that's not why I love hernIt's when we're laying there she can tell me what makes her scarednnI wish it was me not loving her backnShe's a jetsetter I've had to catch with an agendanThat may or may not include mennHere is where our stories meetnWhere our narratives collidennWe'll never get it rightnWe'll never be sober enough to trynAnd we find each other like foreign voicesnAdrift until we collidennAnd we find each other like fallen breathsnAdrift until we diennI've loved too many or too fewnI can't decidenI've got a heart the size of TexasnBut, man, that pump has run dry