I guess sometimes I'm lucky when I go, for whole days at a time without =

thinking about you, and ask myself why, but then I find I'm traveling, =

traveling down, that same old piece of road and wind up down by the =

water. Whatever happened to our walls on the pier? I cry myself alone =

all the way down to the end, I drink my bottle dry and heave it across =

the bay, to the city, smashin' outside your door. Oh now there goes the =

Romeo, hand in hand with his punk rock Juliet, they remind me of two =

people I'm trying to forget, I can hear their sweet nothings on the =

wind, as I hurry to get by, diverting my gaze, to the Oakland Bay =

Bridge. (Could that be you honey, way over on that side? Flashin' a =

signal to me, down by Pier 39, 'cause if I only knew, I'd jump in that =

water and swim right across, drowning in my relief). Maybe I should warn =

them, should I say,