I just want one night to tell you I'm sorry because I miss your bad days and I miss your morning.
Now I sleep accross this land with no more problems than an empty heart and empty hands.
But one night I'll write you, maybe from California. And I'll want to go back to the rain and cold.
And one night you'll call me looking for a cup of coffee and I'll sleep deeper knowing that you've been told.
But one night I'll write you, maybe from Arizona. I'll wait for you to call.