|
the copper shades you wore |
|
were very big and green |
|
and I was only feather-light |
|
above the engine-roar |
|
in the smell of gasoline |
|
you'd make sure I'd hold on tight |
|
and there we'd go with no direction |
|
anywhere the wind would blow |
|
and I would ask you all these questions |
|
while your pride of me would show |
|
then in an act of love |
|
you'd pull me close and check |
|
my orange-colored water wings |
|
you'd turn the engine off |
|
and somewhere from the back |
|
we'd both jump in for a swim |
|
and there we'd go with no direction |
|
anywhere the wind would blow |
|
and I would ask you all these questions |
|
while your pride of me would show |
|
and safe in your Calypso |
|
with the world of wise Cousteau below |
|
and ice cream castles overhead |
|
now how was I to know |
|
how was I to know |
|
a towel round my chest |
|
your copper shades back on |
|
we would speed up fast |
|
and dry up by the sun |
