Swing on By

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I can understand your viewpoint
It’s the small-town scars that take longest to heal
You spent childhoods casing this joint
Looking for exotic ways not to feel

Now you chase erratic choices
While we here strangle a humbler birth
Trying to find our grownup voices
And extract some meaning out of the earth

Wasted another year offhand
Making your sunny-day demands
I never thought that you’d get shy…
Swing on by

Case in point: your bedroom window
How ridiculous both of us must have looked?
You with your new kickstart halo
Me…well, I always played by the book

I still see us, dewed and grassy,
Staring at the moonlight that fell from the West
Then you glanced your right hand past me
And my heart came leaping out of my chest

Damned if you won’t renounce your throne
Damned if you don’t ever come home
If only for some humble pie
Swing on by

Destiny does not drop slowly
Will you make a break for the door or the bed?
Many here who pass for holy
Are nothing more than too easily led

Sorry if I’m saying too much
But the shape of your eyes is making me weak
I don’t know, but I have a hunch
Right here could the treasure you seek

Don’t spend another day alone
Don’t even bother with the phone
What if there’s nothing to decide?
Swing on by

© 2006 John Brocato