Barbra. You don't bring me flowers. You don't sing me love songs. Neil. You hardly talk to me anymore. When you come through that door at the end of the day. Barbra. I remember when you couldn'
Barbra. You don't bring me flowers. You don't sing me love songs. Neil. You hardly talk to me anymore. When you come through that door at the end of the day. Barbra. I remember when you couldn'
, check numbers, gravel faced guards they don't smile. Grammy and me in line, silently waiting single file. . Thanksgiving at the prison, surrounded by families. Road weary pilgrims who show up