i sit at the table with jameson
trying to write clever verse
not knowing how to think or feel
As love draws near by Philip Patston
What's this feeling in my head?
What's it doing there?
The loner in the crowd
Who longs to cry aloud
Looks back to face the fear
Chorus
And the tragic laugh at nothing
The cynics really care
The comics cry at everything
As love draws near
He's in there I can feel him
He's trying to get out
He's pushing and he's prying
we say the same words
we mean the same things
we think we do
you think this thing between us is over and the only way to end it is to say goodbye and return to the waiting womb of silence we left behind then go leave me here my heartless history holds me safe from harm the peril is mine it greets me at the foot of the climb it climbs as a bird owns the sky so that i too may fly i too may soar i too may return to the womb of silence
this feeling of mine goes round and round
up and down
it takes me with it
