Tap tap go the slim, brown shoes And a snazzy hat bobbing on his head Tap tap, some like to lick a girl’s toes, And some collect stamps of people long dead
‘T is what it is, but I reckon that There are too many poems about love And too few about fish
Happiness has been degraded to effort, and depression to undecision. In a world coming together, We're left with ourselves as everyone else And God, I hope the Chinese are learning.
Strangers in buses downtown, strangers in trains found how, somewhere. A smile, a look and in faces mine, impersonal hooks pulled personal corners of my mouth in random directions, that were not so mine. But Neither were you.
Feelings are vibrations Purring and winding, Snapping with a scream And if you listen closely You can hear that Indecision is silent, soft And only different from loneliness By its fatality.