Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Field Medic
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Field Medic
Songwriter
Lyrics
I come home late after closing the coffee shop
Make myself some dinner then get to drinking
And Peter down at the Corner tore
The young man, our friend, remember?
He's moving on, he don't work there anymore
I went by last night and he was gone
I just wish I could tell you
Yeah, I just wish I could tell you
Wake up phone call from the LAPD
Say they wanna talk to me about the theft
Can't say I haven't been keeping busy
I couldn't write a song, so I tried to play that song
That we used to sing together 'bout sailing
Couldn't make it through the first verse
Without breaking down and crying
What the hell is wrong with me?
Hey, I just wish we could sing it
Yeah, I just wish we could sing it
To answer your letter, most days I'm doing fine
But sometimes, I still get deep, down, dark and feeling low
I wear sunglasses and a big jacket
And get so high that I can't see the bottom, it helps a little
When it's too hard to handle, I call Carlos
Yeah, we talk it out
But I just wish I could call you
Yeah, I just wish I could call you
Remember that time we rode the train to San Mateo
And met up with my mom and her husband?
She'd just found 20 dollars on the ground
So she took us out to lunch, and it was raining
After that, we said goodbye and walked down to the tea gardens
Beneath our broken umbrella, and when we got there, it was closed
We did our best to enjoy ourselves, despite it all
But by then, the sun was setting on our problems
I wanna say sorry
Yeah, I just wanna say sorry
I got this whole trunk of love poetry between us
That I can't put away, or throw away, or even begin to think about
So, it just sits in the window, waiting
For the day when some new little rose is gonna be heading on over
And I'll just sweep it away, sweep our memories up
Like I'm making my bed, without thinking
Just like I'm making my bed, without thinking
And that's no way to say thank you
Yeah, that's no way to say thank you
That whole thing about the LAPD, it's not as bad as it sounds
I just cashed a check for somebody that turned out to be stolen
And I think I did it 'cause I was lonely
I got the call today that the bank's gonna pay restitution, but
There was a while there where I thought I was gonna get thrown in a cell
Be on the line for five thousand dollars
You don't know the first thing about it, beginning, middle or end
It's still you that arrest me and robs me
Still you that arrest me and robs me
Still you that arrest me and robs me
Still you that arrest me and robs me
Still you that arrest me and robs me
Still you that arrest me and robs me
Still you that arrest me and robs me
Still you that arrest me and robs me
One, two, three
Writer(s): Kevin Sullivan
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com