My Sinatra (Version 2)
Your kisses were my cigarettes,
Like my chocolate.
‘Said I could learn from your regrets,
That you’d protect me.
New York lights turned frosted glass,
As you’d play me witty sonnets.
We’d sway like we were upper class,
Tuned to deft piano.
With nothing promised me stability,
Such a charismatic lover.
Smearing my reality,
Far into your tomorrow.
But music tells so many lies,
In your surface such façade.
Hold you close, to heavy breast,
This past and reborn life; my Sinatra.
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