On a Monday Morning
The clock tolls five on a Monday morning,
and my lover is swimming along,
caching his breath between strokes.
He glides threw the water.
Ding dong, Ding dong, the clock tolls.
My Lover is swimming on a Monday morning.
The clock tolls eight on a Monday morning,
and my lover is walking to class,
to learn of ideas and equations.
Ding dong, Ding dong, the clock tolls.
My lover is learning on a Monday morning.
The clock tolls ten on a Monday morning,
and my lover is sining a song.
He sings to me a song of love, though I am not there to hear it.
Ding dong, Ding dong, the clock tolls.
My lover is singing on a Monday morning.
The clock tolls four, it is no longer morning,
and my lover is thinking of me.
He wonders on what the future hold,
hoping everything will be gay.
Ding dong, Ding dong, the clock tolls.
My lover is thinking of me.
The clock tolls eight, the day is out,
and my lover is sitting with me.
We are holding hands, and we are happy.
Ding dong, Ding dong, the clock tolls.
My lover and I are sitting together,
My hand in his, and his in mine,
never to part, never to end.
Ding dong, Ding dong, the clock tolls.
|