Strings
Like a cigarette
It’s a lovely day
Just an ordinary wife
She carries smiles
A scent of cider
Above her waste
Like a girl next door
She’ll lie and bitter your taste
Fingers along your strings
Strings of your guitar
Days, they pass
But only your strings
They chase the emptiness away
Like a cigarette
Its still a lovely day
Like a father figure
I’ll push you away
Like a cold winter night
I’ll hold your warmth
As a metaphor
I’ll do you no harm
Fingers along your strings
Strings of your guitar
Days, they pass
Yet nothing seems to chase
This emptiness away
A sunrise from now
I’ll see angels with blue hair
She pours her coffee cold
And she thinks of
The stories told
I know you’re out there
And maybe
Your just getting by
But between you and I
We know that life isn’t fair
Copyright © Jerry Golden | Year Posted 2009
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