Swing Box

There's a box under his bed

that he never opens up

but tonight he pulls it out

cause he's come to look for

evidence of what he fears:

senseless tears

wasted years

he pulls some relics out

studies each and every one

he reads between the lines

one more time before he

breaks the spell that held him down

those sentences that

sentenced him

Does nothing last?

The setting sun becomes a sinking ship;

chained to the helm-looks like he's going down...

A love like that

never should have come

never should have gone

As he feeds them to the fire

one

by

one

he's dimly aware

he may have learned a thing or two

but tuition wasn't cheap

and he's only got these

foggy notions of what he paid

as he's burning records of a

debt of love

Now he knows sometimes even love is not enough

a road that forks

can cleave just like a surgeon's scalpel

And he finds sometimes he can't even see her face

it's been so long

memories fade like old newspaper

And he fears he'll never find a love like that again

God only knows

There must be something better