• He gets home from work with a rose in his hand,
    gleam in his eye only a few can understand.
    First words are "babe, you home?"
    only to realize he's all alone.

    He calls he phone,
    only to get an unwanted tone.
    he makes dinner for two
    with candles brand new.

    He sits and waits
    until the darkness awakes.
    The candles go out at the stem
    as he calmly tries to call her again.

    Maybe late she will be home to me,
    I'll make her a bath so my love she can see.
    The water is hot and the rose petals spin
    a few more jasmine candles cast a low dim.

    He sits and he paces,
    defeat creases across his many faces.
    he crawls into bed with tears falling,
    praying to go to come calling.

    Four months have gone though,
    When will he let go?