If I slept with you,
I would be always holding your hand,
'cause the last night I cried
and don't want anymore to pretend
you meant nothing to me all these years.
I laid reading and all of a sudden burst into tears.
It's a shame we can only exist as we are.
It's a shame I did not manage playing guitar.
It's a shame you know who you are,
won't say a word,
and somehow, nevertheless,
you shall be heard.
It's a shame I can not control
my own blues,
being haggard and bushed
and probably feeling used.
But I'd still stand up for you, nevertheless.
'cause I know there's a limit to what you put to your chest –
you do plenty of things,
way too prescious for me to lose.
And that might be my hell of a proper excuse.
24.05. 2022