wait for me,
at the old radio shack
where this place cannot
hack the beauty of our love.
the beauty of us...? but
why do we always have
to fuss on this bus
where the people's faces
look upon at us as if
we were crazed actors
in a play?
but hey! you never
wanted me.
but you wanted this,
this ideal image of the
word...love.
sometimes you
cant even say "i love you"
without it stinging your
tongue like it burns
like liquor going down
your bitter throat.
so you would quote
something romantic
you'd say it all frantic
as if you were on antics.
but i'd stare at you
with worry...
as you'd stare at me with
glory.
and always and always
i would think...
would you ever
wait for me...?
