Believe in me, im sad and blue

Left with nothing but a picture

Third or fourth weekend in June

December seems to come too soon



Will you wait until tomorrow?

Will you wait until



Head is swirling with the scene

Of you and him embraced in rupture

Dirty trying to come clean

But every thought I have's obscene



Will you wait until tomorrow?

Will you wait until



Quilted in our hands

And keeping you tucked in too deep

Struck in the shot of two

Twenty-four hours in June



Will you wait until tomorrow?

Will you wait until tomorrow?

Will you wait until tomorrow?

Will you wait until tomorrow?



[sorry if a few lines are wrong, but I did it by ear]

-Chris B.