A small piece of paper with your name written on it Is all that's left from this box I found. I've made something better from those old maps of the Midwest that I saved for years. I could never miss anything quite as much as that summer ending and you on the phone. I was living with my parents still. And you always driving everywhere we went... I can almost sing those songs the same. It wasn't fair for them to tell you all about me. It wasn't right for me to tell you all I knew. Yeah, I can call them right sometimes, but I'd never call myself fucking secure.