You and your dreams? They gave me life
Only to take the meaning away.
The spotlight? The morning? An infants hands?
For you. My mother never wept,
But I did. Every night.
My bare feet tapped against the floor
Daddys little girl never knew; never touched those chords,
An orchestra of their own.
For you. My pulse beats
Without a rhythm.
It was the jazz notes, rich and deep,
That reached my ears and sang me fast to sleep
Not your voice.
For you. The record played,
Softly buzzing at the end.
I wanted to be special.
I wanted to
Be loved.
For you. Bel niente,
The boys would whisper in my ear.
You didn
The Swans, they sang this morning
Their voices loud as bells.
Their feathers catching sunlight
As each of them fell
Down.
And in their frantic rushes
Of white and silver rain,
I could have sworn by gods above
That I heard her name;
And later by the waterside
In the silence of the lake,
I thought I heard her quiet voice
Singing of that
Ache.
But in the half-light, just near dusk
That ill forgotten tune
Reminded me of why I came
That I might leave to soon.
Only just as the light faded
And the tune within that light
Did I, forgetting time of day,
Surrender to the night.
The Swans, they sang this morning
All fou