Getting Serious

1960's




When I try to speak
My heart stands still
The words come out so slowly
And mean so little
Except to me.

When I want to listen
The sounds are there
Yet, words that mean so much to you
Leave me thinking...
Nowhere important to you.

We'll smile between our "eyes"
And listen to the music
Til everything is gone past us
Into the empty night
Where nobody lives.

Sometimes we can see clearly through
The message in our minds
That says to us "compose yourself"
And leave the lies behind
With the dead.

So simply do we play our game
Teacher, student, friend, and lover
But, what gets inside my door
Learns to cry
Learns to try
It can die.

The fear that brings me past our face?
Beneath the soul, getting deeper?
Forever is a lovely place
If you're not a sleeper.

When I try to speak
My heart stands still.




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