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c/0 St. Ignatus House, Willoughby Drive, Parrametta, New South Wales This fifth day of July, in the year of Our Lord nineteen hundred and thirty five Why must I apologize every time that I sit down to write Through my own fault I may find You're no longer living at this address Please excuse the lack of news The feeling of strange privilege for the hour of trial, in these times of distress Mean more than years imprisoned by etiquette. I can remember when we were children Though I could never imagine this day Your brother told me we'd live forever "I'll go one better," I heard myself say And it seems so strange, now that he's gone to recall all these games While the years have divided us Friendships have strained and broken Oh, by the way, how's that girl that you wed I hated you then, but I'm over the worst of it I can't come home, I might as well say, life is short I shall not write again From Letras Mania