• I walk out the door. . . At three or four.
    I took a walk. . . .But my legs were sore.
    I walked until the sun set. . .No, i think a bit before.
    I got to my house, turning the knob lightly like i was not sure.
    A feeling of regret filled me to the core.
    I opened that wooden door, and walked across the floor.

    She came in with a frown, and accused me of going around town.
    After all the volume is gone, and there is no sound.
    I ask her why. . . .She always tries to bring me down.
    She looked rather pale, with her eyes empty and round.
    Her words were like hounds. . .And it was me they always found.
    She crossed over to me. . . .Dragging her gown.

    Something we needed to say. . .Casting out the sun's rays.
    She said "This isn't working out" then she left, and i was left her to lay.
    The only thing i could say was a stupid okay.
    This was in the month of May that she tore my heart like paper mache.

    I thought, "This has to be a dream" but lasted to long. . .
    The next day. . . .I made a song.
    But when i made the song. . . . What i said was wrong.
    I said i hated her. . . .And these words bounced around like pong.
    I know that i wasn't right. . . .I knew this all along.

    A sulty little dance. . .A graceful little prance.
    Something in your eyes. . .Made me feel like i could fly.
    All the things that tied. . . .Were caused by your glance.
    You are my charming Fantasy. . . .And i am your fated destiny.
    The thing that helps me cope. . . .Is the quaint melody.