I have the bunker but no compound.
I'm drunk and making mix cd's for a very special someone in a faraway land.
I love touching the letter you sent to me, knowing you once held it in your hand. It warms my cheek in the coldest night. It lights the room in the darkest night.
I carry your name in the cup of my mind as I wander beneath the freeway overpasses on a Saturday night.
I wonder if you'll remember me long after summer has killed the trees and emptied the canals. I wonder if you'll remember me long after I'm gone.