There Is A Place Where The Sidewalk

I Can Be Someone's And Still Be My Own.

There Is A Place Where The Sidewalk Ends, And Before The Street Begins, And There The Grass Grows Soft And White, And There The Sun Burns Crimson Bright, And There The Moon-bird Rests From His Flight To Cool In The Peppermint Wind.

Just Me, Just Me Sweet Marie, She Loves Just Me (she Also Loves Maurice Mcghee). No She Don't, She Loves Just Me (she Also Loves Louise Dupree). No She Don't, She Loves Just Me (she Also Loves The Willow Tree). No She Don't, She Loves Just Me! (poor, Poor Fool, Why Can't You See She Can Love Others And Still Love Thee.)

Anything Is Possible. Anything Can Be.

I Am Writing These Poems From Inside A Lion.