From the recording Catastrophe

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Strike up a conversation with the lonely waitress
“Two sugars on my toast” Yeah it's that kinda morning
Not much to do or say… Individuals go their own way
People change like seasons change. Yah It’s that kinda story

We were more than smoke and mirrors
I touched you myself with these two hands
I can feel my heart beat loudly
I miss you myself with my wee heart

Now you see me, now you don’t
Gonna try to love again, I swear I won’t
Out of sight but in my mind
Good luck on the love you hope to find

Look out the greyscale window. Mist drippy-drops to the earth below
I am hurt. Oh where’d my worth go? Come on, Cal get rational!
The quotient of me divided by you: Isosolation and staring back at the root
That people change, they always change. But this time it's personal