Come Stroll With Me

Come stroll with me a little while,
Along the shores of Memoryville,
Perhaps we’ll stop, admire the view,
We’ve both got time to kill.

A year, my love, has come and gone,
Since the night that we crossed the line,
When two young lovers in a rush of lust,
Opened ourselves to the turns of time.

I still remember with skip of heart,
My journey unto your door,
The dressing, wondering, secretly knowing,
We were destined for so much more.

And when I arrived and down you came,
The smile like none I’ve known,
In that instant I would have sacrificed,
Everything I call my own.

From the journey, nervously laughing,
Trying hard not to show our hand,
Duty bound to be apart,
So starts our mercurial plan.

The night drew on, the passions rose,
Until the fever was burning my soul,
The desires, the fires, the fears and the faith,
Not knowing, but praying which way it would go.

And then I held you and just for a moment,
I prayed for my candle to die,
So that I could move on to a better place,
Knowing it was just you and I.

We made love that night in a fit of obsession,
Fuelled by wine and by beer,
The magic, the spark the intensity of passion,
The wonder of holding you near.

And so to the morning, the uneasy awakening,
Not wanting to make the first move,
Was it a mistake, an error of judgement?
We neither had nothing to prove.

The journey home, muted and lonely,
Thinking the other ones thoughts,
Hoping, blindly that feelings were mutual,
Falling fast with a need to be caught.

Then back to your home, the smile it returned,
We held each other so tight,
Thanking ourselves for the passions we’ve mastered,
Making love between noon and night.

And so I left you, though I didn’t want to,
Your perfume mouthing thoughts in my head,
My heart was pounding with teenage excitement,
Picturing us naked, alone and in bed.

It’s so different now though, now that you hate me,
The closeness, the passion, I’m afraid it’s no more,
Fires are angry, flames burning deeper,
No making love, only making war.

I’m sorry for all the parts that I’ve played,
The lover, the brother, the father, the son,
The friend, the comrade, the ally, the teacher,
The pupil, the boss, the enemy, the gun.

I’m sorry for always giving not taking,
I’m sorry for all the times that I took,
I’m sorry for being in need of attention,
I’m sorry for actually giving a fuck.

I want you to know that I will always love you,
You are the Yin to counter my Yang,
You're black to my white, positive to negative,
Emotion to coldness of my eternal pang.

And so I sign off, for what is the last time,
And I bid you farewell with a tear in my eye,
I hope that you find all that you wish for,
Good luck, I love you and Goodbye.