To Charlotte. An Elegy.

I’m not a bricklayer, darling,
and I’ll never build you a house in the sky.
I probably won’t make you happy
when I promise to be there whenever you cry.

I’m sorry it’s not complicated.
I wrote you this song in the back of a book
with words you won’t find too confusing:
the sentences there if you’d hazard a look.

I won’t lie - the future is awful.
And no, it doesn’t get better than this.
But if you want, I’ll come over sometime
and we can stop the world with a kiss
or two.

I’ve got a heartload of nothing
but a blessed disease that is killing me still.
I’ll probably find ways to lose you:
a notch in my arm for another clean kill.

I won’t lie - our future is awful.
And no, I never get better than this.
But if you want, I’ll come over sometime
and I can stop your heart with a kiss
or two.

I used to think I was worth it.
I thought I had something to give.
The illusion broke with my spirit,
as these days I’m not so convinced
of it.

Tags: lyrics, songs