As She Plays With Her Hair

[I came across this old poem or whatever you want to call it tonight while cleaning out the den in our house. Sound like Bob Dylan’s 115 dream or a lovesick teenager]

As she plays with her hair

I know that she’s thinking of me

Way out, under the stars in the dark of my mind

Find me and I will be here waiting for you

I’m alone, checking my shoes, in the winter cold

And when you think the day is fine

Remember girl you’re mine

We’ll be together, it’s a strange situation

I’ve been lost in your eyes, never getting out

Found a map in the depths of your mind

Help me when I’m down

Drive away the clowns

I’ll be your hero, if you’re my heroine

She’s a princess to all and to me

She lets me go to be free

I’m the jester in her hallstripping up and down, left and right

In spite of all the danger

Hold me, thrill me, won’t you hold my hand

Walk to me, I’ll show you what it’s like to dance

And if I ever see you afraid

Remember that our God has made

A beautiful girl, who can’t hide from the filthy world

You’ve got a sweater from him which makes you smile

He’s got sad eyes that can see for miles

Show him all that you can

He’ll take you down the trail of love

Tossing and turning all the way there

Drifting, floating along this river of love

I find that I can never say enough about you

When you look at me, I know that someone cares

A person to put away my fears

Please don’t leave, I can’t bear to see you go

My heart breaks every night that you are gone

Never have enough time with the girl, she’s never known

And she makes him sad inside

To grin and bear the lies

To live and to have never loved

To be or not to be was never a question asked of me.