Written and performed by Georgia Copeland
Recorded by Joe McMahan
lyrics
If you would believe the stories I told you were true,
that I'm still me, and still me loves still you.
Maybe you'd look this way,
maybe swing by someday,
a drink on a hot afternoon.
We'd cook lasagna and listen to records again.
Then we would know that to die is not really to end.
All of this love,
this leftover stuff,
just won't disappear round the bend.
Stand up right, here in this light, where we can see us now.
Talk to me true, me same to you, where we can hear us now.
I miss the smell of your sweater in early Fall.
You're leaving town, go ahead, get ahead of it all.
Not to be too emo,
I just can't help but know,
It could've been us after all.
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