It feels like I am playing

into the grasping hands
of someone slaying me
and I have tried but cannot see
who that might be.

I am locked up in detention going senile
not to mention just a little crazy too.

Do you know of some secluded place
where this case of deja vu
has never been?

Have you seen the notes I sent
full of pent up anger management?
Did you read them
did you burn them
did you turn them upside down and learn them?

Does it matter if we rock the night
dancing on the floor?

More and more I feel I’m sinking
blinking in the light I’m drinking in.
And the hand I feel
is wrapped around a steering wheel
that just went off a cliff.

The lover’s lain
the lover’s blame
and the love is still the same
just another little tiff
and they join me half way down the cliff.

The squeeze box plays a merry tune
and very soon it plays one more.
Another dance upon the floor
and then it’s time to go.


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