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Poem
Can I take your ear and tell you what I’m doing here
And will you stay to hear me through… as I relate my tale to you
All the people sleeping here are free forever of all fear
For one, I’ve left a red rose which I water with a tear

So look around at all the plots at all those final resting spots
And nettles of which there are lots, and dead plants stood in pots
But here you’ll see a cross of wood in memory of someone good
Who’d run to me, with wide spread arms and kiss me where I stood

I wonder, does she see me now and does she walk beside me now
And when I come to take my bow, will she be there somehow

I’d hoped and planned like any man, I bought for her a baby grand
And though I bought it second hand, I knew she’d understand
And she had practiced night and day, and, boy, that girl could surely play
She’d play Carnegie Hall some day… and then she went away

She was my day, she was my night, she was my dark, she was my light
She was the reason I would fight, in situations tight
That old road leads to nowhere; only drunks and lovers go there
And she pushed me clear before a drunk took her without a care

I wonder, does she see me now and does she walk beside me now
And when I come to take my bow, will she be there somehow

So now I tread my path alone, not many numbers in my phone
And all my music is a drone, my world is monotone
And all my loves and all my hates are memorised like awful dates
Aside from she I speak of who now dwells beyond his gates

My hourglass has emptied slow but now I feel it’s time to go
Please witness this, my final throw; I want the world to know
That as I walked this unlit road until approaching headlights glowed
I wore my darkest clothing out of fear they might have slowed

I wonder, does she see me now and does she walk beside me now
And when I come to take my bow, will she be there somehow
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