Passing me the address & I swore to god I'd write
My pen nib finally broken of its undeniable drought
Each stroke marks out the words that my throat would not allow
Each stroke presenting the messages you did not know 'til now
Tearing open the envelope & you swore to god you wouldn't cry
This talk of rigid guilt could clot within my veins
With ink our only communication, your replies are full of sweet nonsense
With ink striking out a gesture, a masked meaning so rich, so intense
Rewriting our distant wrongs & we swore to god we'd make this right
Clutching at each fraying thread, past wisdoms come close to hand
These letters become our guideline to the instructions for beyond
These letters were our lifeline, though stay nonsense ever long
