I don't want to write it tonight
I'm too close to what's happened
Even if it's been a year
It seems like this is the day that would matter

I don't want to write it tonight
The distance makes it seem exciting
In my penchant for dramatic endings
You're the synapses and I'm just lightning

But this empty page is filling up
With no uncertain credit to you
And I know you'd love to hear me sing to the phone
At least for just a few minutes and you
Know everything that I write for you
Was meant to go straight into your pocket
You'd love to hear how I cleaned myself up
From paths filled with litter and vomit

You're huddled off in the corner
As I'm bouncing between my bed and my chair
And you're fidgeting with your cellphone
As I'm leaned over in the bathroom, cutting my hair

You're huddled off in the corner
As the storm comes passing by
When all the weather stations warned ya
You turned off the power and waited to die
The power went off that night
It took your iron lung away
We've got all the equipment
We've got all the machines
We're waiting for something
While you're waiting in dreams
And the medicine will help me
When I can't find you from the balcony

You didn't know I broke in to your yard
I was peeking into your bay windows
And you called the police
Had me arrested on unrelated charges

But this empty page is filling up
With no uncertain credit to you
And I know you'd love to hear me sing to the phone
At least for just a few minutes and you
Know everything that I write for you
Was meant to go straight into your pocket
You'd love to hear how I cleaned myself up
From paths filled with litter and vomit

I broke into your house
And I wrecked all your stuff
I tore the curtains off the windows
And spilled all your junk
I shattered your windows
I stole all the doorknobs
And when you finally came back
You knew you weren't robbed
I encased all your valuables
In a fiberglass shell
You never called to ask me
I know you all too well

But this empty page is filling up
With no uncertain credit to you
And I know you'd love to hear me sing to the phone
At least for just a few minutes and you
Know everything that I write for you
Was meant to go straight into your pocket
You'd love to hear how I cleaned myself up
From paths filled with litter and vomit

I found fifteen dollars on the ground
I placed the bills between two sheets of cardboard
I wrote your name and a phony address
And figured you'd pick it up if you needed it

When Tampa was awarded an NHL franchise in 1991, the team's management brought in star power before they had any players. They hired 1970s Boston Bruins star Phil Esposito to be the general manager, his brother Tony as chief scout and Terry Crisp, who played for the Philadelphia Flyers when they won two Stanley Cups in the mid-1970s, and coached the Calgary Flames to a Stanley Cup in 1989, to stand behind the bench. Esposito initially attempted to recreate the mystique from the powerhouse Bruins of the Seventies; he hired former linemate Wayne Cashman as an assistant coach, former Bruin trainer John "Frosty" Forristal as the team's trainer, and the inaugural team photo has him flanked by Cashman and player Ken Hodge, Jr., son of his other Bruins' linemate.

--Wikipedia

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