melancholy baby

ON SPIRITS, SAINTS AND SPITTOONS

If you want to love me but find yourself unable
If that is buried deep within you about me
First of all don’t put a setting for me at the table
And for Christ’s sake, just take back the key

This whole palace is your’s and your’s alone
Bedrooms with pink sheets AND a comforter to match
And when I’m gone and you know it’s me don’t pick up the phone
Lock the windows, lock the door, and double check the latch

I see love in your eyes but surrender in your voice
It seems you’ve succumbed to a wish you hold in your heart
I must admit, knowing myself as I do you are given very little choice
Just make certain to do all the things you need to whenever I depart

I’m a spirit of spittoons and a Saint of outhouses and such
While you’ve two cars, one you don’t drive, and are oh so very rich
I remember the first time you said ‘I need your gentle touch’
But now I can opine that you’re father’s a coward and probably bends over for the b*tch
© 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~