I'm looking for a bass line that
lets my heart know
it doesn't have to
beat on its own.

He needs to wrap a guitar around my legs
and follow me through the chords
I've been wishing on the back of postcards from
every country I've seen;
I've been waiting for you to find
a new song to sing

Or maybe even just look at me.

I don't need him
to see me, but you could at least pretend.

I always thought front-men were
over-rated enigmas wrapped delicately in their own arrogance.
I'm too nice to say such things
without a little shame for the allure.

Seeing me in the front row will get you hard
but it won't be easy to draw me out in this crowd.
I've got a one-way ticket to Sweden lined up
and I'm not taking any chances on a washed-up
singer who can't hear the tune in my walk.

I will bow down to your silver medal
in the most sympathetic way I can muster.
It might ruin the moment for you,
but I'll be somewhere over the Atlantic by then,
and this was always for me anyway.

Waves swaying to the same deep notes
my hips long to crash into.

The outside appearance will seem the same and you won't notice the slight demure in my walk.
I've waited years to be on the outside looking in.
I've become a thousand different faces in the mirror and none of them ever caught your attention.
Somewhere in Sweden I'll be sipping my espresso and you'll be looking for me in the crowd.

11/24/2010

Author's Note: Anita and I have collaborated a few times; I always enjoy it. She and I have been kindred spirits for years now, and I hope to meet her in person one day. I love to collab and am open to doing it with anyone.

Posted on 11/24/2010
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