(Latimer)
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The 29th monsoon had finally dried when a distant buzzing sent
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Nude scrambling for cover. A tiny plane dipped and swerved,
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filled the air with swirling white and disappeared.
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He cautiously approached one of the scattered pices of
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paper:
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We've been writing letters each day
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hoping that you'll come home.
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And we're wondering if you're okay.
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As you're not on the phone.
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Face the facts now
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Take a chance.
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Come on back now.
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Fast.
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Please come home,
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Please come home.
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Everyone cares for you.
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Please come home,
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Please come home.
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Everyone cares for you,
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Everyone.
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We've been writing letters each day.
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Hoping,
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that you'll...
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come home.
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-----------------
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Please Come Home
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| Camel |
