Night. There's a lantern in your window.
If we could come in closer we would see you in your housecoat.
What a sight.
Grains of sawdust mist the air,
Like your kitchen is a movie set and you're the h**ne in there.
In your place
A renaissance collage
Next to the plastic lobsters
A reverent homage.
Then you might
Write another bashful letter
To a Russian ballerina
All the way in New York City
It's Saturday Night
On Utopia Parkway
I pray that you might
Think of something you'll love to love
Tonight
My dear Mary Baker Eddy
I pray for Brother Robert
And those boots of lead again.
Despite all I know I can't contain
I'll gather all the parts I need and hope that we remain.
Whitewash over me until
Pure Varathane runs through my veins
And I'll at last be still.
Right when the arrow leaves the bow,
It erases all uncertainty and love I'll never know.
It's Saturday Night
on Utopia Parkway
I pray that I might
Make you something you'll love to love