The lines were drawn but crossed
And I paid to my great cost
For in the face of a ghost
I wanted to hang on to her who I lost
I made it personal when it should have
Been business
Made it a rehearsal when life is always
An essence
I made it a sugar coated pill to swallow
But I wasn't prepared for the sickness
To follow
I should have been sure that I could pass over
But I painted my door with a four leafed clover
And left it all up to chance
Oh but that I blame on the summer's
Aroma of romance
Heady with flowers' scent and honey
I fly busy as a bee spending my money
Not thinking on what has just been
But only on all the attractive things I've seen
But that was a day of the past
How come all these good things
Don't last?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment