no name

He said my heart it is yoursWhether you like it or not No refunds allowed becauseNo matter how many tears I pullFrom their innocent eyesThey do not have the strength toWash away all of the Oil stains and finger prints orFill in the grooves where it once rested Your fingers gripped ever so tightlyAnd now that once thriving organThat you yourself enlightenedLies extraneous to all motionEmotion and excitementSitting up on a shelfAlong with the things that you left hereI’ll never forget dearThe way that I felt Just by seeing your nameAnd a return address from EastonBut now all of your writingsHave been lost in translationBecause I just can’t seem to make any senseOf any word you’ve spoken or wrote ever sinceI put down in writingWhat I can’t bring myself to sayBut I couldn’t bring myself to send themSo these words all remain in a pileAccumulating day after day In a drawer and on the floorNear the bed that I lay inAnd stare at the ceiling Because I think wayToo much to sleepI know that you think too much tooI wonder if you wonder if I think about you too