My fingers tap out a rhythm
On the steering wheel of my car.
The stereos are blaring country
Tunes of liquor, love, and loss.
As I drive the streets of A-town,
Which I know like the back of my hand,
I wonder why the sky is blue
And why I can't remember you.
I tried my best not to forget
The sound of your voice and tone
But along the way in the last few years
All but your name have drifted away.
Try as I might, I can't recall
The sound or shape of you,
Try as I might, I've lost hold
Of my last ties to you.
Losing you the first time
Was a dagger in my heart,
Losing you, the memory,
Is drowning in the sea.
And this is what I ponder
As I wander through my life.
It's no wonder that they've dubbed me
The melancholy poet who lives in 7b.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 9:14 AM UTC
My fingers tap out a rhythm
On the steering wheel of my car.
The stereos are blaring country
Tunes of liquor, love, and loss.
As I drive the streets of A-town,
Which I know like the back of my hand,
I wonder why the sky is blue
And why I can't remember you.
I tried my best not to forget
The sound of your voice and tone
But along the way in the last few years
All but your name have drifted away.
Try as I might, I can't recall
The sound or shape of you,
Try as I might, I've lost hold
Of my last ties to you.
Losing you the first time
Was a dagger in my heart,
Losing you, the memory,
Is drowning in the sea.
And this is what I ponder
As I wander through my life.
It's no wonder that they've dubbed me
The melancholy poet who lives in 7b.
