There’s one thing I know for certain
And it’s the same thing I’ll never admit
Because Hell knows that even if I did
Not even Heaven could save Mary’s kid
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There’s one thing I know for certain
And it’s the same thing I’ll never admit
Because Hell knows that even if I did
Not even Heaven could save Mary’s kid
It’s funny really
how I’d been thinking
the exact same thing.
And how everything’s different.
And how nothing’s changed.
And how things are fine enough
without throwing a wrench in the works.
We go to those we trust
Because even if they hurt us
The least we know’s they care
And knowing that much
Sometimes is enough.
For every peace I’ve lost
I picked up another
And another, then another
Till I could hardly tell
The difference between
Myself, them—or the other.
You might just find yourself
Very much alone and
Without anyone to call so
If you’re unwilling to change then
I just want you to know that
No matter what I’ll be there
Waiting with myself
Waiting for your company
I gave you yours
You gave me mine
The sewer’s innocent
We walked for miles
Time to time
In soles that didn’t fit
Our arms they fell like chandelier
The climax of a play
Then died like Dylan Thomas done
We knew no other way
Whatever is the point
I’ll be on the edge
Sincerity’s an ashtray
A speech impediment
It’s senseless to sense this
phase from May to June.
These fences stand defenseless
like guards on duty do.
In truth there are no changes
or phases of the moon,
it’s just a formed perspective,
outsiders share the view.
I won’t be getting better
Though I’ll play it like I do
You know I’m not that clever
Or else then I’d be you—
The romantic in me
Wants to kick the charade
And love you less like Shakespeare—
But it’s this Portrait
Of Dorian Gray that’s damned me Wilde
I don’t dare