I Would Certainly End Up Forever Crying

It's 4:30 In The Morning, It's Always 4:30 In The Morning.

You Have To Die A Few Times Before You Can Really Live.

I Sit On The Couch Watching Her Arrange Her Long Red Hair Before My Bedroom Mirror. She Pulls Her Hair Up And Piles It On Top Of Her Head- She Lets Her Eyes Look At My Eyes- Then She Drops Her Hair And Lets It Fall Down In Front Of Her Face. We Go To Bed And I Hold Her Speechlessly From The Back My Arm Around Her Neck I Touch Her Wrists And Hands Feel Up To Her Elbows No Further.

I Broke That Town In Half Like A Wooden Match.

I Would Certainly End Up Forever Crying The Blues Into A Coffee Cup In A Park For Old Men Playing Chess Or Silly Games Of Some Sort.