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I had enough so I went home |
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To the place I was raised |
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To my younger days |
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Down at the pond |
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She was swimming naked |
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With a key in her hand |
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With her beautiful skin |
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After awhile I was running naked |
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To any place that's away |
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To my abiding grief |
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And back at the pond |
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She was digging it wider |
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With a key in her hand |
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With her unaltered patience |
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Before the end I went there to find her |
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To the growing pit, to my dried up nest |
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She asked why I didn't bring the water |
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With a key in her hand |
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With her face all bright |
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And with her first words |
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I started crying |
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Just like I knew I would |
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No matter what she said |
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And then her smile |
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Turned my tears upside down |
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With a key in her hand, |
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Without knowing |
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And though it was blurry |
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I could see the whole filling |
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And because it was blurry |
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But soon she was shouting, |
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"Too much, too much" |
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With a key in her hand |
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With a chance of knowing |
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I got excited |
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I was so overwhelmed |
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I simply couldn't stop |
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With water at my chest |
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With no control |
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Only her right hand was above the flood |
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With her key somewhere else |
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With her key somewhere else |
