If it weren’t for the faint breeze
through the rustle of the leaves
Or tomorrow’s sunrise
and the clouds parting in the skies

I wouldn’t think of you.

If not for the patter of the rain
against this window pane
Or if the song had never played
From the playlist that we made

I wouldn’t think of you.

If not for the whiskey in my hand
As I try to understand
The words I wrote and never said
I should have spoken them instead

I always think of you.