If only it were easier to keep you off my mind.
In response to silence to reciprocate in kind.
It is true that there are plenty of other fish in the sea,
So what accounts then for this ceaseless heartache and longing in me?

I must be a truly troubled man who grew addicted to his pain.
Some things about me even I so often struggle to explain.
Like, for example, as I sit upon a lush and blooming river bank,
why do I choose to cast my love and faith into another’s fish tank?

I am become more madness than method.
I can only fathom that I must have gone insane
and that the only cure for me would be to board a train
bound for a destination far far far away.