Calendar Page

When there's more fingers on my hand than days until I see you
I will count them down and smile
But for now you're far away on some calendar page
That I won't turn to for a while

So don't tell me that you miss me, 'cause that only makes it worse
There ain't much you could say that could make this any easier

There's more stars up in the sky even on a cloudy night than I could ever try to see
And there's just as many thoughts and prayers on their way to God and it seems so hard to compete

So don't tell me that you miss me, 'cause that only makes it worse
Just send up your prayers into that cold frosty air and hope it works