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Those Three Words
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Brad
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1
I could have written a story
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Out of those three words.
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But as it stands,
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My organ's pumping notes
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To the skill of your smile.
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All the while I ask for flowers
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To be placed by your cheek,
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So the mornin' is sweet.
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The pleasure is close
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Tick, tick, tick, tick, my dear.
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Can't you see?
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I could have written a story
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Out of "I love you."
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I could have given,
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I could have given something new.
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But as it stands,
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My organ's humpin' somethin' old,
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And all the while, I ask for flowers to be
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Placed by your cheek,
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So the mornin' is sweet...
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Somehow,
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From beginning to end,
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Is right here
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Holding your hand.
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And shining your shoes,
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And pouring the wine,
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And lately, seems like everything.
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I'm a slave, I'm a master.
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And sometimes my heart, and sometimes my soul,
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And sometimes my fingers walk 'round my eyes,
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And precious thoughts, and diamond dreams.
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Somehow, from beginning to end,
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Is right here, holding your hand.
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(Wednesday will come)
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