Too Late, You're Gone.

As the red numbers on the clock
tic tock, turn three o' clock
I hear your voice crying in my ear
"call me anytime dear,
I don't care if its three in the morning, I'll be here."

And I'm so tempted
to dial those digits that are etched in my mind
but you won't pick up this time,
for your soul was disconnected.

If only you hadn't been so stubborn,
and let me help you out
If only I pushed my problems aside,
and asked what those tears were about.

I would wipe them from your face,
kiss away the tears.
Lend you my shoulder,
but Heaven must be better then being here.