With music on www.andreasborg.com


The Waltz



Now tattoos trace this ugly old face
My chest and knotted arms and hands
Around my wrists are tribal gifts
Small bones and wicked charms

Here it's ivory and misery when
everything comes back to me
I loved her then and I love her still
And I'll never fall for love again

But I want to

Here in this room, in my personal cell
Came a' something of her I remember quite well
A scent of wild lilies and mint cigarettes
Makes me recall what I've tried to forget

I recall those bells around her wrists
I recall those scars around her wrists
Her little lies and smaller truths
Her little lies and the truth

Remember those days in the park
In the rain, beneath the rain
The darkness a blanket around us and
Then the light and the dawn
Which touched both our faces and turned them
Turned them right back to stone

So I raise my hand up in anger
And then, then I let it fall
I heard that you carried our child to the lake
I guess the sadness it just took you both

They struck you down by the big black oak
Across a branch they strung up a rope
A crack like thunder when the neck did broke
A piss in the pants what a funny ol' joke
Look at that angle of that throat....

Now I just sit old and tired
In the dark at the end of this bar
Not one single word not the hint of a smile
One single track of bootprints behind
I loved her then and love her still
and always




Poetry by Andreas Borg
Read 523 times
Written on 2006-12-31 at 16:54

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