Woke up in the morning with the rain creeping in and the quality of light cleaning out my eyes. See you in a crowded grocery with the local kids still calling out your name. (The whole street grumbles and it groans.) You scream at the train still passing by–it’s not stopping anymore.
Well, I swear: when we saw the English garden, I left thinking you were right. We’ll take this morning’s information in stride.
The afternoon we finally made it clear that you were living with a worried gentleman, blatant till the end. Follow me into my little hole I guess I owe you from when you were alone.
I hate to have this hanging over me. I bet you get this way when everyone gets tired. Your cigarette’s on fire.
Well, I swear when we saw the English garden I left thinking you were right. The car ran like it did when we first bought it. We’ll take this morning’s information in stride.
When I hear you saying so and you’re on the watch, it’s a life worth living on. "You’ll be sorry son, it was far fetched from the cost of it all," and it still begs the question: