But tomorrow's a dream away and today has turned to dust. Your silver tongue has turned to clay and your golden rule to rust. If that's the way that … - Jim Croce

Operator, well could you help me place this call?
Cause I can't read the number that you just gave me.
There's something in my eyes,
You know it happens every time
I think about the love that I thought would save me.<p>But isn't that the way they say it goes?
Well let's forget all that
And give me the number if you can find it
So I can call just to tell 'em I'm fine, and to show
I've overcome the blow,
I've learned to take it well.
I only wish my words could just convince myself
That it just wasn't real.
But that's not the way it feels.

Well, the South side of Chicago is the baddest part of town.
And if you go down there, you better just beware
Of a man named Leroy Brown.
Now, Leroy, more than trouble,
You see, he stands, about, six foot four.
All the downtown ladies call him "Treetop Lover",
All the men just call him "Sir" (Right on).<p>And he's bad, bad Leroy Brown,
The baddest man in the whole damn town.
Badder than old King Kong,
Meaner than a junkyard dog.

But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do, once you find them.
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go through time with.