Things are here.
And you're over there.
And inbetween land, sea everything.
I hope you're warm.
And I hope you think of me,
In Petersburg the way things used to be.
Yesterday, a telegraph said that you had died.
But I knew, but I know that it was a lie.
I tried to laugh,
But I went back to my room and cried.
I mean our room.
I went back to our room and cried.

Retreat, and come back home.

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