Audio

Here you are right at my feet
you’re unassuming, solid, sweet.
You fit so tight and so complete
that I forget the void beneath.

You lay there still, but still I slip,
you look like someplace I could trip,
we met and then I lost my grip,
look out below- manhole- I flip.

From where I stand I can’t quite seem
to get a glimpse of underneath
the better then, to paint you with-
an easel to support my myth.

You lay there still, but still I slip,
you look like someplace I could trip,
we met and then I lost my grip,
look out below- manhole- I flip.

I’d like to take your picture  and then put it in a frame
I’ll like to show my mother and imagine our last name
I’ll wear out all your edges like a giant lucky dime.
you’re nice in two dimensions and I’d like to make you mine

Here you are right at my feet
you’re unassuming, solid, sweet.
You fit so tight and so complete
that I forget the void beneath.
You make me nervous
shiny surface hidden purpose
Look out below. Manhole. I flip.