| Please no more therapy
|
| Mother take care of me
|
| Piece me together with a
|
| Needle and thread
|
| Wrap me in eiderdown
|
| Lace from your wedding gown
|
| Fold me and lay me down
|
| On your bed
|
| Or liken me to a shoe
|
| Blackened and spit-shined through
|
| Kicking back home to you
|
| Smiling back home
|
| Singing back home to you
|
| Laughing back home to you
|
| Dragging back home to you
|
| I was so wary then
|
| The ugly American
|
| Thinner than oxygen
|
| Tough as a whore
|
| I said you can lie to me
|
| I own what’s inside of me
|
| And nothing surprises me anymore
|
| But forests in Germany
|
| Kids in the Tuileries
|
| Broken-down fortresses
|
| In old Italy
|
| And claiming his victory
|
| Shrouded in mystery
|
| He went running away with me
|
| Back in our home New York
|
| Walking these streets forlorn
|
| We all in our uniforms
|
| Black and black
|
| Doing that slouch and jive
|
| The artist must survive
|
| We’ve got all we need we cried
|
| And we don’t look back
|
| Thinking we had it made
|
| Poised for the hit parade
|
| Knee deep in accolades
|
| The conceptual pair
|
| But ever the malcontent
|
| He left without incident
|
| Vanished into thin air
|
| Now I am always amazed
|
| Words can fill up a page
|
| Pages fill up the days
|
| Between him and me
|
| But the vows that we never keep
|
| From bedrooms to business-speak
|
| Make me remember how cheap
|
| Words can be
|
| And the letters I wrote you of
|
| Were those of the desperate stuff
|
| Like begging for love in a suicide threat
|
| But I am too young to die
|
| Too old for a lullaby
|
| Too tired for life on the ledge
|
| But I had a dream last night
|
| Of lovers who walked the plank
|
| Out on the edge of time
|
| Amidst ridicule
|
| They laughed as they rocked and reeled
|
| Over the mining fields
|
| Coming to rest on this ship of fools
|
| But he just took polaroids
|
| Of her smile in the light
|
| Of the dawn of the menacing sky
|
| And before they went overboard
|
| She turned and held up a card
|
| And it said Valentine |