Basements and Benches

After all you’ve been through
With me helping you through it
We have that basement
If it’s just your brother and sister who know
Or if it’s the entire universe
We have the bench
Whether you’re sick and tired
Or if I’m injured and out of it
We have each other

But that’s not real, not one bit
Reality is that we can’t see a movie on Thanksgiving day
And that one cannot love another at such a young age
The reality, brutal yet true, is that I am crazy
Like the night in the basement
I was locked in, cut off from the world above

Fantasy is what I live for, not reality
Like on Halloween – you a ballerina, me a ‘soul man’
Or after your show, me ‘with’ you at the party
Outside the studio, you crying in my arms
The others just watching and wondering
But I came for support, I was your relief

Reality is: you will always like ‘that’ guy
And I will always love you

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Basements and Benches

The Notebook, Blue…

The notebook blue
These words aren’t for you
It’s spine torn and bent
Every last chance I’ve spent
And sold second hand

So, here’s to you
And hoping you’re not blue
I could try to write the words
To make you soar with the birds
Put a smile on your face, tap your foot with the band

Welcome, to my mind
Time to follow all the lines I can find
And put to paper all that I’ve never said
With your help, maybe we can put this all to bed
Scribble it all out to make it through this

All the errs and fixes I’ve tried to find
Just to maybe set it straight, my mind
From what my right hand has forgotten
To all that has spoiled rotten
Of all this we shall speak, we will get through this

The Notebook, Blue…