The Insurect Years

And now im giving up. I wish I could just say those things you told me once before about not giving up. I miss you now you've died in dreams a thousand times before. Like a long rope from an old tree, hangs a good friend. But only in dreams, I drip dry tears; when will I see you again? I'll never see you again. Summer's gone and I will never speak to you. With a needle in your arm and the red light on, would you clean up for a song? Well here it is, it's for the better, this one's for Dawn.