i want to know if you're alive
because it'd make me better inside
oh the years keep adding up
and now its been one since we sat at the seaside
i want to know if you're still breathing
because your insides are closest to mine
and i still need to pay you back
for the french lunch we had in the sunshine
you sat on tarmac in Alaska
so i slept on the sidewalk until you arrived
when you're mom got worried
you told her i'd be fine
i brought a Tuborg drinking horn
wrapped in newspaper to Washington
a little piece of Denmark
i found for you in Oregon