but songs I love live on
I can hear them and sing them whenever I want to
I feel sad
the last words I wrote about him,
I called him a rich bastard..
reacting to some song that rang false
(probably displacing some anger!)
now I’m wishing I’d never been critical
so many songs I love came outta that head
outta that heart
out of that imagination!
it’s got me thinking about you
all that love I’ve had for you
here it is, ruined.
a pile of shredded letters
a pile of ashes!
there are ghosts of beautiful dreams
and memories of hope
but there’s also that rubble in the closet
and the slammed door
I know if you surprised us all and left early,
I’d be sad and regret the ending
us as strangers with barriers up
weary fenced eyes
I’ll probably drop dead first and
you won’t even know