It’s like I am a signal flarenYou shot straight to the starsnThough I burn up there miles from younI know right where you arennAnd each time the phone shakesnIt’s like a sucker punchnAnd though I still love to talk to younIs that bad or good lucknnJust give me one yearnAnd I’ll be yours my dearnnAnd I’ll stop buying cigarettesnHalf ’cause you disapprovenBut if it shortens our seconds one secondnThen the last half will donnAnd if I took the busnStraight on back to our townnWould it make us much happier,nKnowing I’d turned back around?nnJust give me one yearnAnd I’ll be yours my dearnnJust give me one year