Bizarre

You're bizarre you are,
that's what you are.
can't make up your mind:
be cruel or be kind.
And the words that you say,
every night, every day.
The way that you act
and the games that you play.
You confuse her you do,
that's what you do!
Doesn't know what to think;
should she speak to you?
It's strange today,
it's been this way, for a while,
a year, a smile, a tear.
The emotions around go round
and round, and still you refuse,
and have not found:
the reason for this.
'It's not the season for this?'
Not yet of course!
Cos it's never quite right.
The emotions too slight.
The time too short.
The words too weak.
For you to seek -

for you to just take her hand.