I wish I could turn away
From Saturdays spent with you
That Sunday afternoons
Weren't made sweeter by your voice
No, I never had a choice
There is a me
A me beyond my senses
Just sitting on my sight
A little laughing Buddha
A little Krishna, a little light
And they sang
They sang your name
Leaving me
No decision to be made
They sang
Come on girl, get close to me
Tell me are you real or just a dream
It's like the suicide of Socrates
Truth is always closer than it seems
But oh, you're older now
And so divine
Now you're crooked
To take place in the light
Molded by accidents
through experience
With your arms out wide
And how those around you have gone
To the weight of the snow
And the winds on cold nights
And you like a river
An ever-changing story in my head
I see it now so clearly
You put back on your shirt
And left the bed
So this poem's for the rooftops
Alone but for the stars
Above their heads
That sang
Come on girl, get close to me
Tell me are you real or just a dream
It's like the suicide of Socrates
Truth is always closer than it seems
Come on girl, get close to me
Tell me are you real or just a dream
It's like the suicide of Socrates
Truth is always closer than it seems
I wish I could turn away
From Saturdays spent with you
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