In 48 hours I’ll be in your arms

in 47 hours I’ll be 250 miles away

in 46 hours I’ll be kissing your lips

in 45 hours you’ll take away the pain.

In 44 hours I’ll be smiling

in 43 hours I’ll be anxious

In 42 hours I’ll be longing

In 41 hours I’ll be impatient.

In 40 hours I’ll be rushing

In 39 hours I’ll be late

in 38 hours I’ll be forgetting

In 37 hours I’ll be ready for a date.

In 36 hours I’ll be whining

in 35 hours I’ll be asleep.

In 33 hours I’ll be dreaming

In 32 hours I’ll be restlessly awake.

In 31 hours I’ll be tossing

In 32 hours I’ll be turning

In 30 hours I’ll be wondering

In 29 hours it’ll almost be morning.

In 28 hours we’ll be talking

In 27 hours we’ll be reminiscing

In 26 hours I’ll be board

In 25 hours I’ll wonder what I’m missing

In 24 hours I’ll be right here

In 23 hours I’ll be packing

In 22 hours I’ll be cleaning

In 21 hours I’ll be napping

In 20 hours I’ll be eating

In 19 hours I’ll be writing

In 18 hours I’ll be eating

In 17 hours I’ll be typing.

In 16 hours I’ll be painting

In 15 hours I’ll be drawing

In 14 hours I’ll be learning

In 13 hours I’ll regret it’s morning

In 12 short hours I’ll be lazy

In 11 short hours I won’t leave bed

In 10 short hours I’ll be out of this world

In 9 short hours you’ll be in my head.

In 8 short hours I’ll be peacefully asleep

In 7 short hours I’ll be tearing at the sheets.

In 6 short hours I’ll be resting quietly

In 5 short hours I’ll be breathing heavily.

In just 4 short hours I’ll be saying one more good night

In just 3 short hours I’ll be turning off the light.

In only 2 more hours I’ll be staring out the window, at the snow.

And over the next hour I’ll wonder why time moves so slow