The street light won't stop shining through the window By the pullout couch where I've been sleeping I don't know what you've been told, but I'm alright
You signed your name a million times in cursive On the cover of every book you own Miss me more, miss me less, I never know
Your parents kept on with the poems you wrote When you were eight years old in the garage I did too, and when I think of you, I'm like a child
The street light won't stop shining through the window By the pullout couch where I've been sleeping I don't care if I sleep again, it's okay
