Rosy

Oh
How I’d like to know
How you can feel so free
To do the kinds of things you do to me.
For when I try
To do you like you do me every day,
I pay,
If not in cash, then in some other way.

I pay
When we decide to play
And when the money’s been spent,
I wonder where the clouds and bubbles went.
And then again,
Why did you have to mention all of those men?
As if their money
Could ever make a sky more sunny,
And where would we be then?

I mean, you and I!
If I were not so strong I would sooner die,
But my oh my,
I’m strong enough to say goodbye!

So either I’m blind
Or your name’s not Rosy,
And if you don’t mind
And if I’m not being nosy,
I think I’m inclined
Since we are not getting cozy
Just to mosey on down
And find some random ran shackle shack in the middle of the country
Where nobody will know me and nobody will want me!
I will kick off my shoes,
Crank up the ol’ composer –
(That’s the real composer,
Not the poser or the dozer.)

Not the hacker or the slacker
Or the guy who needs a backer
Or the spanger for the change yer
Mother warned you not to fool with,
And it really doesn’t matter what big names you went to school with
When a lot of local little names who just ain’t cool with
Sendin’ all yer love
Into the wrong direction –
It ought to be Above
That I am settin’ my affection!
You are so far below
That I am losin’ my connection
And it just goes to show
That all this introspection
Does:

Is move me closer to a fantasy,
A fairy tale of love,
With a melancholy ending.
There’s no sense in pretending
I
Can stick around not but a minute more –
I’d like to see my coat, my hat,
And show me the door!
Or –

You
Will not be nearly through
With all the things I’ll do –
With all the kinds of things I’ll do to you . . .

“Rosy” from The Word from Beyond
Words and Music copyright (c) 2016 by Andy Pope.
All Rights Reserved.