Well Sometimes I Go Out, By Myself, And I Look Across The Water.
And I Think Of All The Things, Of What You're Doing, And in my head I Paint A Picture.
'Cause since I've Come Home, Well My Body's Been A Mess, And I Miss Your tender Hair, And The Way You Like To Dress.
Oh Won't You Come On Over, Stop Making A Fool Out Of Me.


(Hepburns garderob auktioneras ut, precis som den lilla jackan som var Marilyns i en gammal film. I januari har jag fått en tid till sjukhuset och ska börja skolan, mamma skrek av glädje i telefonen, jag drog bara på munnen. Vi får se lilla du sa jag. )