Menage a Trois Part 2
Message in a bottle
I love the coast and a fresh morning breeze
The salt air inspires me for no reason at all
The sun rises, as I ponder this great universe
God’s great earth is a miracle bestowed before my very eyes
I stumbled and fell
Over a washed up log on the beach
Daydreaming you see has its perils
Alas it was no log at all, to my ardent surprise
Could it be?
I have received a message in a bottle?
What luck the Irish seem to have
A romantic notion, who would write to me?
A pretty lass perhaps, taken a fancy?
I dream to much, and no such luck
Seems its from a broken man, from another time
Poured his heart into the bottle
In more ways than one
Never the less, was a tall and weepy tale
Of a love that was locked and hidden
A love that would never come to be
I confess this to be true
I added a few drops to the ocean that day
I rushed to the village as fast as I could
I was so sure now, of what I should
She was opening the shop, it was still bright and early
Shy as a lark, she whispered good morning tiss surely
Why I hugged her so tight and readily agreed
Bottle in hand, she thought I was tipsy
I assured her the bottle I hold is not of whiskey
For in it I saw the wisdom of acting
You shall be mine oh pretty lady
Lost souls in waiting, we shall never be
I smiled like the devil and dropped to me knees
Messages in bottles come way too late
Lets us not leave such messages to fate
Be mine, you know its true
Lets not squander messages from the blue
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