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Miss you - miss you - miss you. - Like a chant it starts.
Miss you. - I can hear it, like a whisper in the heart.
It's an ache that lingers. It's a song that sighs.
Miss you - miss you - miss you, never dies.

I look out the evening window. Sun is going down.
Like fireflies in the distance, lights come on in town.
Maybe I should go there, in search of friendly cheer.
Just this misty miss you hovers with me here.

I hear it in the morning, while dressing for the day.
In the night I say it, and let it flow away,
wondering if you hear it; wondering if you know.
Maybe if you listen, you will hear it flow -
Miss you - miss you - miss you,
wherever heart winds blow.

Like music for this miss you, now I hear the rain,
running up the walkway, coming home again.
I put on the record. Not the new C D.
Just the song my heart knows. It's called memory.

It all comes flooding back, like the ocean tide.
It whispers, and it roars, and thunders deep inside.
Time and miles have vanished. The Past is in review.
I'm roaming there again, lost in missing you.

It follows me to waking, colors every day.
All the time I'm working, it's just a thought away.
I wonder if you hear it, as through the world you go.
Do you sometimes pause, to hear a whisper flow ?
Miss you - miss you - miss you.
Wonder if you know.
Wonder if you know -

(© 2001 - "Future Folk" Music - Betty Curtis )