Happy anniversary, baby
It's been a year now since you moved
Silly me, what was I thinking
I could've sworn you still
It's a cheap hotel, the heat pipes hiss
The bathroom's down
He'd get home at 5:30
Fix his drink, sit down in
There's a big storm a coming, of this I've no
When they ask about us, as friends always do
Remember the
My father could use a little mercy now
The fruits of
Packing vagabond visions and a dream drenched hunger for a
The parade of souls is marching across the sky
Their heat
Written by Fred Eaglesmith
Well, I stared out of the windshield