And you would boast that you
knew
All the pressure points inside
And you could just as easily
kill me
Beneath the desire that I
hide
But as your patient I knew
That your healing powers had
grown
From a sore that's far far
deeper
Than this heart where the
pain was born
With my head again clear
I think of words to send to
you
To coax you back to my side
But always leave out "I love
you"
And then through my front door
A picture of a faraway land
And to with love on the back
And once again I reach for
my pen
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |