As I stare up from this dreary bed...
Shaking the dreams from inside my head...
You are here...physically, No...
You are here, even when you go...
You essence, your smell...
These things I know so well...
For you are all I see, sleeping and wake...
For my love to you, will never hesitate
I am air for her and she is my sunlight...
and these feelings of loneliness I'm trying to fight..
For she went down to Jamaica and has been there since...
She met up with a guy named Bob and smoked his sense...
but I'm not angry for I would do the same...
For if I found a cute Rastafarian dame...
if I met a girl named Bob, who let me smoke it all...
getting me so stoned, I would pass out in the hall...
Gee, I would do the same, If I met a dame...
down in old Jamaica town
So I am as I am, still in no hurry...
but going home always makes me worry...
For my house smells of her, and it makes me blue...
and that's why I wrote this song for you...
For I know your off having a great time...
and down in Jamaica, a joint isn't a crime...
Where the buds stick to the wall...
and no one cares if you sleep in the hall...
It's a place to have fun, and get high...
while the rest of the world just goes by...
I'll be home, getting stoned as if everyone knew...
getting something to eat and forgetting about you...

06/14/1999

Posted on 12/15/2003
Copyright © 2025 Aaron Howard