Whatever it was that went wrong, She poured it into sang Whatever it was that went wrong Write your way of town, write your way out of sorrow Years of running round had worn you out With your notebooks in a shoebox, Mattress up on milk crates And the days repeating themselves Weil hold on, that's all l'm asking you to do Hold on, I know l'm asking for a lot But hold on-this isn 't final Write your way of town, write your way out of sorrow Could you write your way back to me some day? For a while the missing stops, Then it just starts up again I don't know how this ends Well hold on, that's all l'm asking you to do Hold on, I know l'm asking for a lot Hold on-this isn't final No feeling is final, just keep going Hold on... no feeling is final