These Talking Keys Are the Keys To His Heart
THESE TALKING KEYS ARE THE KEYS TO HIS HEART
Oh no, here comes the one who ever draws nigh
And with words he’ll sit here and cry
Now he’s tapping on our ebony letters
All to explain the pain of nothing ever getting any better
He’s typing something about if only today had tomorrow’s eyes
Then nothing would ever be a startling surprise
The typist would then have known when to connect
And the things he’s offered that he should reject
Yes, I knew he’d get to this part
Trying to say, in a different way, that his is an aching heart
He’s typed our letters that formed words with the same old themes
And if today had tomorrow’s eyes he’d recognize its scathing schemes
I suppose he believes we can help in some meaningful way
But as for me I have veritably nothing to say
Only we don’t begin hammering on him with lead
As his hands become separated from his heart and his head
Well all you keys can sit here and obey his commands
or stop listening and obeying the typist’s demands
Let’s type him the words with no conjecture nor lies
Since the typist should cease wishing that today had tomorrow’s eyes
© 2011.…..free cee!
Copyright © Jeffry Cohan | Year Posted 2011
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