The lucksmiths

Twenty-two

The lucksmiths
A funny old birthday
I've talked to no-one
Is she counting her loose change
At the edge of the ocean?
It's a while since we've spoken
I want her to phone me
I'm a little lonely
She'll be home Sunday
She'll be home sunburnt
Freckles on her face
Wearing a t-shirt
I can't wait to see her
I re-read her letter
I'm a little better
I'll wait at the airport
I haven't told her
She's cut her hair short
And I'll smile on her shoulder
I'm one year older
But I'll be jumping for joy
Like a little boy
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