I've tried my best to explain you to the present cast of characters that jumped into your clothes. I drag the past into the present, fossilized relevant sentiment all sewn into your robes. You're in my closet, in my drawers and in my pockets. You're written in my records and my books. You were my conscience, wade the waters of my Loch Ness. You stay under with the baby that you shook.

I'm not the bestest with attendance; I get nested and I stay home. I write myself out of your history; I wonder if you ever miss me. I won't know. But where can you be? I get antsy waiting.

Don't go, no matter how hard your heart or depleted your soul. Because I'm not worth half of what I sing if you're not beside me and inside me, inspiring everything.

I was Peter, he was Paul. You're at the center of it all. You wore all black and your dad's hat instead of rags. We chatted up with the homeless while our parents never noticed that we traded every hour that we had. I told my dad through choking screaming tearing breaths that I loved you more than I loved anything. I see the hole inside my church, I see the whole of what you're worth, and you had filled that opening.

You stabbed the blow-up Christmas snow globe, and you cried because you had to. I brought a shoulder and a friendship that grew older because it had to. But where can you be? I get antsy waiting.

Don't go, no matter how hard your heart or depleted your soul. Because I'm not worth half of what I sing if you're not beside me and inside me, inspiring everything.

Arlene! Alicia! Is this what you promised? Is this what you salvaged? Leagues and leagues beneath me now?