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Poem

How do the girls talk, of boys in the bushes and stones in their pockets
How do the boys stalk, to thinking that girls are dreaming of nothing but lockets,
for keeping inescapable kisses trapped in a hope

And why do the ladies say, that helpless are husbands when wells run dry
And why do the men cry, though tough as the night, when the daylight dims the eye
	till work is rest and boredom besets…

Like it's given to be
Just a fall, just blood blotting from a scrape on the knee
So watch it go brown
And watch it go down
To rise like a star, a little forgotten scar in the memory

I heard the lonely yell, "I once was quiet, and I had a truth, but nothing means nothing when something breaks in the laugh!"
You can't change in the traffic lights, you can't change a tune or even a melody
without breaking a song
So I'll get it wrong and she'll see me naked as naked can be
Lit by the sun in the contempt of modern antiquities

Like it's given to be
Just a fall, just blood blotting from a scrape on the knee
So watch it go brown
And watch it go down
To rise like a star, a little forgotten scar in the memory

Now how would you say, dappled in ideas
That ruins aren't buried under buildings so tall
And now how would you say, given the seas
You can't wash the sin from the salt in your mouth, you call...

"That's it's given to be for you and not me, to rise like a star, with little forgotten scars in your memory."

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