mister america

sweet, sweet angel,

this letter is for your eyes and ears.
i was watching the leaves turn to gold and float away
today when the snow came down.
i was there, watching it burn up like gasoline,
and all i could think of was if the world
could look this way forever…
or at least until you and i fall away.

did you see from your hospital room
how the flowers bloomed for you?
i injured a bunch of roses today,
then I just left them to die in the snow.
i don’t care if you don’t love me,
because i’ve finally been able to write this
letter addressed to you.
even though I know you may not read this,
not even sure if it’ll be me or you who will
throw this
in the trash,
but i can say i wrote to you
and that i confessed.

i’m not going to wait anymore.
by morning,
i’ll be in the shadow cast by
the flowers by your bed.
so don’t worry,
i’ll still be around.

hey, mister america…
can you tell me when my
sick twisting will end?

this letter, addressed to you,
is just for you to know that
you can look all you want,
but all the red, red roses are face down
in the snow.

hey, love,
i just came by to say

thank you and good-bye,
mister america…

i’ll be looking out for you in your shadow…