i´m sitting by the window of your thirty-second floor apartment
waiting for your phone calls all to end
i´m sitting watching wind blow
watching time go
watching cars go by
i´m waiting for these memories to begin

if i threw my guitar
out the window, so far down
would i start to regret it
or would i smile and watch it slowly fall?

garbage trucks and taxi cabs
don´t seem like they can reach me here
the clamor of jack-hammers seems so faint
the way you treat me like the only
slightly brings me down a lot
i don´t think i´ll ever be the same

if i threw my guitar
out the window, so far down
would i start to regret it
or would i smile and watch it slowly fall?