Bet

When love is only, three missed trains, your face is solace lonely, is it only wishful flare, that love should stay, instead of slipping at the bar, those lines going nowhere, the wine you gave away, nights of ached for care, wrap them in a solitaire , you’ll never change, riding high at the fair, on the cafe' square, trees in the gentle rain, cigarettes thrown in the air. my mother used to scold me, why rush through each day, stations of your litany, one car's just the same.