you tread the city so quietly.
tip toe delicate around me.
don’t send a word, don’t wave a flag.
and I wait to see you on trains
and I avoid brooklyn like the plague.
(if you wrote me I would drown.)
the boy who loves me would wilt,
knowing I hear your voice still.
although soft, although dreamt,
like notes that rise real slow
to the surface
from an underwater piano.
I'm still waiting for the song the end.
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 1:11 PM UTC
you tread the city so quietly.
tip toe delicate around me.
don’t send a word, don’t wave a flag.
and I wait to see you on trains
and I avoid brooklyn like the plague.
(if you wrote me I would drown.)
the boy who loves me would wilt,
knowing I hear your voice still.
although soft, although dreamt,
like notes that rise real slow
to the surface
from an underwater piano.
I'm still waiting for the song the end.
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