come back home

back home to me

and you wonder what it means

But those pages written blow back here

they haven't reached you for some time

returned unopened

you're no there

you thought it was a crime

You said you thought that it was wrong

to try and keep in touch

that we should both just go our ways

and try to live again

so off you went

no good-by song

I didn't think too much

but those things passed and lonely days

have left me asking when

When will you come back this way

I've lost my expectations

I think I'd like to see that day

I'm waiting at the station

I'm waiting just to hear from you

I'm waiting just to be near you

I'm waiting

I'm waiting at the station

Come Back Home

Dried roses in a lacquered box

reminders of you far away

running through a mountain stream

you try to wash it clean

the letters that I send you now

plead with you most every day

© Gerald Nicholas Simpson.  All rights reserved.