I picked up my scrapbook, and faced it today.
I looked at the pictures I'd pasted away:
All figurines and faces, set in their proper places.
I saw that my life I had wasted away.
I opened a letter from a girl I once knew.
She says she is fine, and she hopes I am, too.
When am I gonna visit?
It isn't proper is it
To hang someone up when you're feeling so blue.
But I need another chance.
And I know I could advance
If I went to another city
Where someone there could pity me.
I closed up my scrapbook and placed it away,
And thought on the girl who had chased it away.
Packed up my two suitcases;
Tied up my two shoelaces.
I put on my coat, and I hasted away.