Believe in me, im sad and blue
Left with nothing but a picture
Third or fourth weekend in June
December seems to come too soon
Will you wait until tomorrow?
Will you wait until
Head is swirling with the scene
Of you and him embraced in rupture
Dirty trying to come clean
But every thought I have's obscene
Will you wait until tomorrow?
Will you wait until
Quilted in our hands
And keeping you tucked in too deep
Struck in the shot of two
Twenty-four hours in June
Will you wait until tomorrow?
Will you wait until tomorrow?
Will you wait until tomorrow?
Will you wait until tomorrow?
[sorry if a few lines are wrong, but I did it by ear]
-Chris B.
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