He's witing for me again on the corner
(On that crowded street corner)
Disaffected French artist
(Oh and how he mourns her)
Trapped in his little glass box
(With every step ignored)
I fell in love with the man in black and white
With the painted on tear and the wee little chapeau
I dream of those gloved hands holding me tight.
I watch him as he looks for his dead lover
(Searching faces on that street corner!)
Not everyone's face goes on a milk carton
(After all these years, would he still know her?)
Delighted children fill his hat with coins
(But he can't even give them a name)
Author notes
The first and the only song I have ever written. I was immensely proud of it for a couple of days, and now, in true fashion, I hate it. There are some very weak parts that I just havent been able to improve, and for the life of my I can not get a libretto for the verses! Argh!
And I didnt know what to call it either. So I gave it that long-ass title. Nothing as good as 'Water Wings and Other Pool-Side Fashion Faux-Pas'.
Meh, I'll try again later. ... at least it rhymes...
Written November 19th, 2005
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