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By John Prine Submitted by Zerch Date: 2001 May 20 Comment on this Work [[2001.05.20.02.19.32603]] |
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Small town, bright lights, Saturday nights. Pinballs and pool halls flashing their lights. Makin' change behind a counter in a penny arcade Sat the fat girl daughter of Virgina and Ray. Lydia Lydia hid her thoughts like a cat Behind her small eyes sunk deep in her fat. She read romance magazenes up in her room And felt just like Sunday on Saturday afternoon. But dreamin' just comes natural Like the first breath from a baby; like sunsine feedin' daisies; Like the love hidden deep in you heart. Bunk beds,shaved heads, Saturday nights. A warehouse of strangers with sixty whatt lights. Starin' throught the cealing just wanting to be Lay one of too many youny PFC. Donald There were spaces between Donald and whatever he said; Strangers had forced him to live in his head. He envisioned the details of romantic scenes After midnight in the stillness of the barricks lattren. But Dreamin'..... Hot love,cold love,no love at all. A portrait of guilt is hung on the wall. Nothin' is worng if nothin' is right, Donald and lydia made love that night. Love They made love in the mountains,they made love in the streams. They made love in the valleys, they made love in their dreams. But when they was finished there was nothin' to say 'Cause mostly they made love from ten miles away. But dreamin' just comes natural Like the first breath from a baby; Like sunshine feedin'daisys; Like the love hidden deep in you heart. But its far,far from me. |