i spent a long time thinking of what to write, but i couldn't come up with anything to say.
The last train is nearly due,
The underground is closing soon,
And in the dark deserted station,
Restless in anticipation,
A man waits in the shadows.
His restless eyes leap and scratch,
At all that they can touch or catch,
And hidden deep within his pocket,
Safe
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such imagery.
it's lovely dear.
i guess quiet sometimes is more than words.
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needless to say, paul simon is a genius.
and although i did not (though i really wish i did) write that, the last bit was me.
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well perhaps we can credit them, so you are not falsely praised.
hmm?
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i apologize sincerely.
oh so sincerely.
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i can't tell anymore.
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