We’ve been watching you stir at your cup, seeing absolutely everything, all of these blasted beautiful things going on all round
I am prepared to pound these particular pavements waiting for you to give me that goddamn ring
You have yours and I will always have mine, all in magic kind
I will refill it, all of it, Each And Every Last Bit
Why don’t you pull up a goddamn wicker-chair, sit with me ’til it begins to make rather imperfect sense
Six-pence and we’re none the richer, you and I we can and will get to paint the perfect scripture
Unashamedly together
These words never, ever meant so very much to me
Once out of touch, now but a pretty flower fixture nestled against my sun-soaked window
When oh when do we get to set it all aflame, juxtaposed rain down upon me all over again
Sunday everyday, swaying our gregarious heads back and forth, doting on each and everything that you finally let yourself say
No more sword fights, no nothing
I held an all too neglected candle for a time ’til you stepped on over, lit it ’til beating still

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