In exile
 
don’t quite know which one of us is in exile
but I sure do miss my soul
there’s a soul-shaped hole inside of me
when I wake up in the morning
and there’s a soul-shaped hole inside of me
when I go to bed at night
 
I’d send him a postcard
if only I knew where he was

tell him how deeply I miss him
how much I’d love him to come home