Omaha's never looked better.
On the edge of your bed, anxiously waiting for the reply to come to your lips, I show no sign of impatience. The next few words that fall upon my ears were the last words I'd ever imagine to come from your mouth. You tell me reasons for which I should never wear a paper bag over my head in public, and if I ever chose to do so, you'd be right along my side, with a paper bag, perhaps, even a box on yours. You list with your fingers the descriptions of 3 reasons why a paper bag wouldn't suit me, and I have never recieved such sincere compliments. I didn't argue or laugh or deny them, I took them with a smile on my face, and a look in your eye that can never compare with any other Omaha night.
I learned your voice tonight, and that'll keep me happy until the next time I'm to see you.
I learned your voice tonight, and that'll keep me happy until the next time I'm to see you.