It's now 4 AM
and you still haven't returned...

My California is
the land of the mountains...

So I sang my song
of lament and fear...

We were sitting in a cafe
when the dark clouds swept in...

The voice says "let go,"
but I know I won't let go...

They say everyone has
their own road to walk...

Fiery ballads of
lies and lost love...

Gentle winter wind:
frosty kisses slowly soothe...

Let us walk down to the river side,
Come along now my tear-stained bride...

I woke up this morning.
It's been six months...

I had hoped we'd be strung along,
as if life were a blustery day...

In the wild was born a gentle flower,
sought after by all men, far and wide...