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