Sun it never lasts more than a day or so, like so many friends it came to stay here long enough to leave an indescribable impact on this place. This city’s sweating bullets and raining those cold November tears (All we are in this world. All we have in this world). I guess I never thought you’d go away. I guess I never thought you’d leave me here. Roses last so long here that the birds and bushes stay frightfully alive. This city really never ever just cools off I guess. It’s Thursday night and it’s 23 degrees. Cold it travels all along the evening breeze. Fifteen gathered up and bundled tight. “We’ll make it, we’ll make it, we’ll make it” is heard through the night. Portland, Austin, Asheville, New York and Providence. My friends, they’ve been called on so much further and further away from here. (All we are in this world. All we have in this world). I guess I never thought you’d go away. I guess I never thought you’d leave us here.