Strange love, Strange love
I’ve been counting days
In my own different ways
I desire to play the goat
like a steady sailing boat
Everyday walking downtown dreaming of you
I wish I see your face out of the blue
Strange love, Strange love
Every day is a hope for the hopeless
Wandering over the blues with your address
I don’t even know if it’s right or wrong
Whether it will be so long or not I’ll be strong
I wish I have a glimpse of you
We can then make our adieu
Sometimes, ‘Somethings’ can’t be defined. There exist some vexatious difficulty in getting an unfolding to ‘Somethings’. It was love that was purely strange since its inception. So strange that it is ‘something’ so called love.
No comments:
Post a Comment