Lyrics
DIRTY LETTERS
(Timothy Brickley & David Rheins)
Stupid mail still comes addressed to you.
Should I return to sender or throw away?
Junk and letters from out of touch friends.
Don't they know how long it's been?
Six months, a year or more,
stray panties and half-used cologne.
I pause when I see those picture people,
staring, smiling, in their dusty jacket home.
Your Victoria's Secret catalog
and monthly copy of Elle.
My retro jacket and your London Fog.
Sometimes life's a living hell.
She was nervous.
A cat near water.
I am wet.
A hole in autumn.
Mementos and old paperbacks.
What more could I say?
We never talked much, you and I.
Guess I'll throw your shit away
Copyright 1993, Timothy Brickley & David Rheins
