Where in the world did you come from my dear?
Did some mysterious voice tell you I’d still be here? I bought this ticket to Mobile, but I been stranded all day…p.a. said the bus broke down ten miles away from the station.
So seldom a door…so seldom a key…so seldom a lock like the love between you and me. But seldom comes happiness without the pain of the devil in the details since I saw the smile on your face as I was crying in a Greyhound station on Christmas Day…in 1998.
The burden of love is the fuel of bad grammar.
You stutter and stammer—what a bitch to convey the crux of the matter, when the words you must utter are hopelessly tangled in the memories and scars you show no one. So seldom a door…so seldom a key…so seldom a hit like the hurt you put on me.
But seldom comes happiness without the pain of the devil in the details since I saw the smile on your face as I was crying in a Greyhound station on Christmas Day…in 1998. I remember quite clearly, a bad Muzak version of James Taylor’s big hit, called «Fire and Rain» was playing as you crouched down and tearfully kissed me, and I thought, «Damn, what good fiction I will mold from this terrible pain.» So seldom a door…so seldom a key…so seldom a gift like the gift you gave me. But seldom comes happiness without the pain of the devil in the details since I saw the smile on your face as I was crying in a Greyhound station on Christmas Day…in 1998. Amazing grace, how sweet the smile upon the face I never thought I’d see you again…especially here in this Greyhound station…on Christmas Day…in 1998
