Ernestine and I

I the fisherman, you the Queen, we ate the candy in between, the lobby and the mezzanine, you took the time to read a book and taught the servant s how to cook though royalty n'er took a look. We squandered every single note of every song I ever wrote, and made a little fishing boat, to go out far upon the sea, with no one left to sail with me, except three roaches and a flea, They ate the sandwiches I made, and drank my tea and lemonade, and after that,the harp they played, reminded me of afternoons playing cowboys in the dunes, the shell pits where the shy baboons, swung way out from the guava trees, on silver backs with bumble bees, (you fell and scratched up both your knees) Then you played artist on my face, drawing clowns who had a race, on broomstick horses everyplace. Out in the piney woods back home we didn't need a telephone, we never spent a night alone imaginary friends came by to play with Jax or learn to fly, out in the oak so very high, where we kept all our wings.