Dark laughter on the teeter-totter,
an old song floats across the water,
I know I should pack up and move on.
One-note Johnnies proliferate,
the wind rises, the houris late
here in the going going gone.
My heart ain't mine, my heart is yours -
or else I left it out-of-doors
like a baseball glove out on the lawn.
I'd walk through fire to retrieve it,
but still you never would believe it
here in the going going gone.
Everywhere you look you see
more of you and more of me
scrambling for the goods, the lines are drawn.
peace and quiet - is there any?
We are the beautiful too many -
here in the going going gone.
Modern Love's loaded gun.
I live alone and love everyone
and I feel pretty good. Is that so wrong?
Passion called and I would blow it.
Now I'm an old Chinese poet
here in the going going gone.
Porch full of winter squash and pumpkin,
Summer's always really somethin',
but one day fall arrives with a chilly dawn.
While lovers make love in warm beds,
the forsaken sit and scratch their heads
here in the going going gone.
The rain keeps falling on the flood.
The flower closes to a bud.
All my gifts you say are just a con.
But I'll always want to be your friend.
That is my prayer untill Amen -
here in the going going gone.
Copyright © 1994 Brown-Feldman Publishing
| Marco Giunco |
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