Transatlantic Trauma 1966(Album Version) - Chad

Hello there Well everything's fine
I got your letter did you get mine
I'm pleased to hear you're working again
Up at six and to bed at ten
But oh there's so many things I know
That I just can't write
Like how you feel
In the night
Wish I could
The weather's bad
Well that's nothing new
I hear the heat's on now is that true
I'm writing from Boston and Chad is uptight
I broke two strings on stage last night
But I don't really want to know
About the London scene
That sort of chat just leaves me flat
I miss you so much
What more can I say
In two or three pages
I hate it this way
It's such an impossible strain
Corny old phrases repeated again
It's a game that we play
Oh oh oh
I miss you so much
What more can I say
In two or three pages
I hate it this way
It's such an impossible strain
Corny old phrases repeated again
It's a game that we play
Well I must go I really must fly
I'll send you some albums at least I'll try
If everything's cool
I'll see you quite soon
Maybe July or possibly June
But though I want you here I know
That might blow the dream
You see I'm scared to pay the fare
Goodbye for now
Oh oh oh
Transatlantic Trauma 1966 - Chad