|
A strange boy is weaving a course of grace and havoc |
|
On a yellow skateboard through midday sidewalk traffic |
|
Just when I think, he's foolish and childish and I want him to be manly |
|
I catch my fool and my child, needing love and understanding |
|
What a strange, strange boy |
|
He still lives with his family |
|
Even the war and the navy |
|
Couldn't bring him to maturity |
|
He keeps referring back to school days and clinging to his child |
|
Fidgeting and bullied, his crazy wisdom holding onto something wild |
|
He asked me to be patient, well, I failed, "Grow up", I cried |
|
And as the smoke was clearing he said, "Give me one good reason why" |
|
What a strange, strange boy |
|
He sees the cars as sets of waves |
|
Sequences of mass and space |
|
He sees the damage in my face |
|
We got high on travel and we got drunk on alcohol |
|
And on love the strongest poison and medicine of all |
|
See how that feeling comes and goes |
|
Like the pull of moon on tides |
|
Now I am surf rising |
|
Now parched ribs of sand at his side |
|
What a strange, strange boy |
|
I gave him clothes and jewelry |
|
I gave him my warm body |
|
I gave him power over me |
|
A thousand glass eyes were staring in a cellar full of antique dolls |
|
I found an old piano and sweet chords rose up in waxed New England halls |
|
While the boarders were snoring under crisp white sheets of curfew |
|
We were newly lovers then, we were fire in the stiff blue haired house rules |