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letra de transatlantic trauma 1966 - chad & jeremy

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clyde

h-llo there! well everything’s fine
i got your letter, did you get mine?
i’m pleased to hear you’re working again
up at six and to bed at ten
but oh, there’s so many things i know
that i just can’t write
like how you feel in the night
(wish i could)
the weather’s bad, well that’s nothing new
i hear the heat’s on, now is that true?
i’m writing from boston and chad is uptight
i broke two strings on stage last night
but i don’t really want to know about the london scene
that sort of chat just leaves me flat
i miss you so much, what more can i say
in two or three pages? i hate it this way
it’s such an impossible strain
corny old phrases repeated again
it’s a game that we play
well i must go, i really must fly
i’ll send you some alb-ms, at least i’ll try
if ev’rything’s cool, i’ll see you quite soon
maybe july or possibly june
but though i want you here, i know
that that might blow the dream
you see, i’m scared to pay the fare
goodbye for now

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