Take my younger wife
and our first born
Take every photo album
and picture off the wall
Take my place in the city
and the broken down car
Take my attempt at adulthood
and my regular seat by the bar
Take my shot at fame
and grand romantic ideas
Take my crossed fingers
and false apologies
But leave me friday afternoons
and my favorite black shirt
Leave the blood in my eye that
i keep saying does not hurt
Leave me my brothers old shoes
and which ever words made sense
Leave the laughter from the kitchen
and my beloved audience
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment