I play the lonely piano
To the lost, demented Durango
Amidst all our failing and flailing
In love-lost ecstasy.
Here you’ve sent me out
On an open and guttered sea
In a strange and dark night that is as cold
As an old man’s regressed memory.
Heart shattered, my mind lost and scattered
Drifting upon these forbidden waters
That hides the darkness beneath.
Seeing what should not be seen,
As I wait in the days that pass
For the tiresome fall
And the deep, angry keep.
The clouds will not part for thee,
The oceans will not calm for me.
My trusty oar does not push back against
the power of the mighty trance
That has possessed our minds
and has transformed the meaning
of our first glance under the covers;
the kind most often sought
and thought to be of lovers.
And so I sail inwards
Out to the depths of uncharted sea
In patient search, endlessly
On route to the heart of the sun.
But there appears nothing left,
but to feel and to fleet
In an endless, earthbound run.
I will try my best,
but Lord knows I don’t know
Where it is I am to go
When your face does not appear to show
Its features to my eyes.
Have I lost my mind, or have I gone blind
To the beauty of an old queen?
Oh my, how the years have passed by,
and my head still feels so unclean!
The other night I went down
To our old Durango town
And watched the joyful dance of the circus clown
I only wish I were the circus clown.
But I left and I snuck ’round the caravan
To see you there with some other man
Who bent down to kiss you
And lay his folding hands
On the bosom of your mind.
In cold state frenzy, I could not stand the sight
of his life in place of mine.
So quietly I stepped out of the light and fled the scene
Back to my cold theater seats of dream.
Then after the death of the clown
and the final curtains came down,
I was so full of doubt
That I bumped into you as I stumbled my way out
I shouted Hello, and how’ve you been?
How rare it is to see you again
You look as perfect now as you looked perfect then
You answered but with a passing grin
Not a glance you could spare for him!
Or so it seemed to this old skeleton ghost
To this phantom hidden in your machine
Only blindly reaching out for you
In a foggy midnight dream.
Oh, my words they are so smooth
Too smooth for you to notice!
My words they cut so deep
That you can’t even feel it!
My face is so alive
You thought I was a painting!
Though I wouldn’t think it too abstract,
It was too hard, much too hard for you to remember!
A mouth here or an eye there
a wave of a hand, or maybe some fingers!
In the peripheral image of my day-to-day
You walked away,