Adroitness Under Circumstance
Cigarette burns quickly lying limply in the tray,
watching the sun fade- into the earth.
Boys of Summer calling from within, I sit,
waiting and thinking.
It was a pleasure, a common pleasure, talking with you,
watching you, as best I could, when you would
find the words to say next.
How sweet you are to find it interesting to look upon this calamity, that we share.
Still I know that there is more to this,
more than what is said,
less than what is thought, still more-
Please don't be scared to express,
please don't be scared to say,
it eats my soul as well, darling,
in the end we can only pray.
Still the cigarette burns, smoke curls,
a song approaches and my thoughts remain-
of the two of us locked in a box.
Oh so distant are we both,
you with your uncertainty,
me as I boast,
can we not try? Shall it not be?
That even when blocked by a wall,
never will we stand free?
Granted the circumstance is less than I plained,
of course this attempt may just be sad,
happiness is something we both should have,
drinking, eating, feeling, holding, caressing, hand in hand- all of our desires.
I am but the Rambling Man and you are but The Lady in Red,
storming separately across this grave parking lot,
artistically looking at the sky above,
living free of our own whims,
I shall not stand by and believe this is the end!
Yet, the cigarette almost gone and the whiskey near dry, I find,
it takes two to make this divine.
Here is my hand that has been waiting for you,
when you are ready I shall lead the way,
to our next step, I suspect,
that with the power of two now one,
forever will we be greeted by the sun.
watching the sun fade- into the earth.
Boys of Summer calling from within, I sit,
waiting and thinking.
It was a pleasure, a common pleasure, talking with you,
watching you, as best I could, when you would
find the words to say next.
How sweet you are to find it interesting to look upon this calamity, that we share.
Still I know that there is more to this,
more than what is said,
less than what is thought, still more-
Please don't be scared to express,
please don't be scared to say,
it eats my soul as well, darling,
in the end we can only pray.
Still the cigarette burns, smoke curls,
a song approaches and my thoughts remain-
of the two of us locked in a box.
Oh so distant are we both,
you with your uncertainty,
me as I boast,
can we not try? Shall it not be?
That even when blocked by a wall,
never will we stand free?
Granted the circumstance is less than I plained,
of course this attempt may just be sad,
happiness is something we both should have,
drinking, eating, feeling, holding, caressing, hand in hand- all of our desires.
I am but the Rambling Man and you are but The Lady in Red,
storming separately across this grave parking lot,
artistically looking at the sky above,
living free of our own whims,
I shall not stand by and believe this is the end!
Yet, the cigarette almost gone and the whiskey near dry, I find,
it takes two to make this divine.
Here is my hand that has been waiting for you,
when you are ready I shall lead the way,
to our next step, I suspect,
that with the power of two now one,
forever will we be greeted by the sun.