tears on a pillow, eyes on the phone,    you pour all the love that you keep inside into a song,    like "he's gone", and these are the thoughts that you keep inside,    you smile from your window, and stand all alone    and pour all the love that you keep inside into the phone, into the phone,       and like the leaves on the trees,    like the carpenters song,    like the planes and the trains    and the lives that were young, he's gone    and it feels like the words to a song       with the style of a widow, and a place of your own    you pour all the love that you keep inside into the phone, and sit alone    cos these are the thoughts that you keep inside    and you smile from your window and stand all alone    and pour all the love that you keep inside into a song, into a song       and like the leaves on the trees,    like the carpenters song,    like the planes and the trains    and the lives that were young, he's gone    and it feels like the words to a song    and like the stains on the names of the lives that were young, he's gone    and it feels like the words to a song,       so gone, so gone....