standing hopeful

no where do i see

sitting on a park bench

you eagerly reading

while waiting to be with me.

but we'd be eating chocolates

thumbing our noses at the sky,

playing with our imaginations

using a little leg and an inviting thigh.

of course i'd be broke

and you'd still be attached,

fumbling with trembling hands

at my front door latch.

and there'd be children on the playground

watching for the man,

laughing at our antics

from behind a nearby garbage can.

and i'd be standing hopeful,

never growing tired,

waiting for you to settle down

but you're always wired.

speaking in tongues,

you never know who's on first,

showing off your batter's box

with an insatiable thirst.

and you'd give me a hard time

but i'd rather hear a song,

waiting on a park bench

and i'll sit here all day long,

tasting the air

if that's what it takes

to watch you go speeding past

without using your brakes.

well, there's never been a question

that i'm always up for a ride,

listening for an answer

that you're completely satisfied.

no where do i see

sitting on a park bench

you eagerly reading

while waiting to be with me.

but we'd be eating chocolates

thumbing our noses at the sky,

playing with our imaginations

using a little leg and an inviting thigh.

of course i'd be broke

and you'd still be attached,

fumbling with trembling hands

at my front door latch.

well, there's never been a question

that i'm always up for a ride,

listening for an answer

that you're completely satisfied.