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A
SONG FOR YOU,
Etta
You
are not mine to keep.
I
may never possess you.
I
just wish to take care of you for a while.
You
have lived for years and years.
Yet
your life, you, you seem to have awaited me,
I
wonder the truth, could it be,
Had
a sweet fortune intervened
And
destined us to share a story,
A
book composed along these self-same lines.
Have
we a tale which sat out time?
What
insistence had me copy words from its pages,
That
I might make them known,
And
have world to hear and then to see
How
I feel as I read them for you?
That
I may open my mouth boldly, I have voice.
Truly,
the wonder of it, this love,
The
remembrance of things past, between us,
The
foretold promise of happy future, laid before us,
The
mystery of this love, this love.
And
within this moment, our time and place,
Think
on it. The breath of it, its immensity, a bit count,
It
surpasses the number of the sands upon the earth,
That
within my grasp I have tools ready for me,
The
instant reference to books and words,
To
every kind of journal, to bins and bins of photos,
And
into virtual flat drawers with all the world's maps,
Billions
of libraries whose lights, like stars,
Pave
a milky way across heaven.
Up
and down the country roads,
Along
this big ol’ city’s streets,
You
have had some tears and smiles,
And
your plenty share of dreams and wish come true.
Yearnings
never go out of style.
Do
you ever cry when you‘re alone
When
I am not by your side?
Do
you silently wait for me?
Sometimes
a panic disturbs me.
I
wonder how so much in common,
The
lovely child of our affection, such hope and promise,
Its
beauty abandoned, left to the luck of the roadside.
I
must trust in God and believe that He may direct
Kindness
from a stranger, someone to hold us once more.
I
know you have had lucky breaks,
Found
fair quota of goodly things.
You
can not be blamed.
Sure
many were my mistakes.
You
have lived your life putting on a happy face,
A
stiff upper lip when presented with adversity
I
write this song so you might know,
Should
you happen upon trouble,
Fall
into times of fear and woe, or nightmare,
When
past demons beset you,
If
one day you loose your course,
Fail
to find comfort or prospect of clear resolution,
You
have this verse, my love for you,
And
yet, even now so late in the day,
I
cling to the expectation that you recall the hours,
I
sat behind the wheel, and delivered you safely home.
You
are not mine to keep.
I
just take care of you for a while.
You
have lived for years and years.
Yet
your life, you, you seem to have awaited me,
I
wonder the truth, could it be,
Had
a sweet fortune intervened
And
destined us to share a story,
A
book composed along these self-same lines.
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