drawn over with a cape
this recluse is yet to be done
i did not have fun last night
when i sat with my knees up
and my head turned towards the door
i was wishing for the past
or possibly the future, whichever would make me alive again
don't go in circles
when you leave me, don't think twice
put your foot down and roll the window up
if i could live once
if i could live again
i would not love you
i would not love you again.
the tinsy whitebrick house
with the orange roof and stout chimney
had ducks following in a row
beneath the window
in the garden
and as they marched as one
the sun went down behind the mountains
and i stayed beneath the sycamore tree.
No comments:
Post a Comment