If I only had a day to live,
And if I had a week to live,
I’d be on that same plane
after a week’s Seattle rain,
to do the same old thing again
But if I had a year to live,
I’d let you have more space
As I would hope you’d give me mine
But when those four months end
if you’re still causing me to pine,
I’d want against my chest
the girl so heavy on my mind
If I had 5 years left to live,
I’d let you have your space
And through 4 months of waiting
for the warmth of your embrace
I would reflect on what we have
and hope we both still want to chase
What we’ve had when you get back,
though I imagine that’s the case
I don’t know what I would change
I’d want you more immediately,
if that could be arranged
But I think the way I feel right now
as the way I’d feel with seconds
running slowly down the drain
and so I wait for you tonight
I only question, in your final day,
would I be worth the flight?