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By distant moon Date: 2007 Sep 22 Comment on this Work [[2007.09.22.22.05.32629]] |
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Your stick is pounding the drum skin causing a low and shaking beat, while I'm in another world marching down a separate street. And though I've never seen or been near the smile on your face, or heard your voice, soft and slow, your words all I've wanted to embrace. And while you may have seen me looking left and right as I'm marching in my line, I still follow the beat of a different drum than yours and it's the drummer that I call mine. Yes, in my weak, I've shown my soul I've stubbed my toes and pride, you may play a tune that caught my ear but by "weak end" my drummer is my bride. |