| I miss your smell and your style
|
| And your pure abiding way
|
| Miss your approach to life
|
| And your body in my bed
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| Miss your take on anything
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| And the music you would play
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| Miss cracking up and wrestling
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| Our debriefs at end of day
|
| These are the things that I miss
|
| These are not times for the weak of heart
|
| These are the days of raw despondence
|
| And I never dreamed I would have to lay down my torch for you like this
|
| I miss your neck and your gait
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| And your sharing what you write
|
| Miss you walking through the front door
|
| Documentaries in your hand
|
| Miss traveling our traveling
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| And your fun and charming friends
|
| Miss our Big Sur getaways
|
| And to watch you love my dogs
|
| These are the things that I miss
|
| These are not times for the weak of heart
|
| These are the days of raw despondence
|
| And I never dreamed I would have to lay down my torch for you like this
|
| One step one prayer
|
| I soldier on
|
| Stimulating moving on
|
| I miss your warmth and the thought
|
| Of us bringing up our kids
|
| And the part of you that walks with your stick-tied handkerchief
|
| These are the things that I miss
|
| These are not times for the weak of heart
|
| These are the days of raw despondence
|
| And I never dreamed I would have to lay down my torch for you like this |