NYC Fantasy
This envisioning is so cliché
It is making my cheeks so rosé:
A lightly tanned brunette couple
Walking through alleys so unsupple...
Above their handholding and umbrellas,
In the pouring rain, walking among fellas.
Then suddenly he stops and turns to her,
Drops his umbrella and kisses ever deeper.
But it's just all a New York City fantasy,
A reality that may or may never come to be.
All I can see is he and I having coffee,
Then an electro swing song sets me free.
Indeed it is a hope and dream all so cliché,
As a hopeless romantic can't help it anyway.
Maybe he's more than someone new,
Maybe someday we'll share a few.
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