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