Maybe I’ve Changed

Love is tripe

A magician’s illusion

A huge disappointment

And a dream that never lingers

If money is power then what’s the power of love?

Roses, sure, such a sweet smell

But they are weak; but they die

Don’t ever tell me you love me again

Boredom and loneliness is no excuse for that

When I used to come running, well now I run away

Into a brighter day; a brighter way to live

Not clinging to your every word like a drop of viscous blood

You bled me dry and I you

Now you’re pale and fat and dull

Like a retired on ghost, living on pension, with no cause left, not a hope for redemption

Yet my face is fuller, there I those I unconditionally call friends

There are those often with me, and those always playing on my mind

Yet I’m not in love, I’m free to feel

And think, unbiased – the sensational real

There is only one class of humans: the privileged class

The food on the place, the drink in the glass

The beauty of yin, the beauty of yang

The smell of your hair and the songs I have sang

A kiss from your lips, the warmth of your skin

A feeling of peace as he shouts at the Chaplain

That his beliefs aren’t worth a strand of a woman’s hair

And the priest turns, tears in his eyes

And secretly agrees, to his utter surprise:

That his words are empty … nothing there

If this is heaven enough for you it’s heaven enough for you

To be so close to you and you so close to me

I may have changed, or I’m maybe the same

The truth yet to unravel in my beautifully conscious brain

One thing is for definite: If I die tomorrow

It’s been a great life

It’s been a great die

I’ve been born, lived, and died

And I cannot complain