in vain

If I had a single dollar for every morning that I woke
with the thought of your hands wrapt round my neck
so tight that I might choke
Then I would I buy myself an airplane
so I could get the hell up out of dodge
and find myslef a new tortured man
who wouldn’t think that this is wrong.
If I had a little lullaby for every time that you said no
then I would write an entire record
of the ways I’ve watched you go
and then I would play it with a syphony
for all the world to hear
of the all the ways you broke my heart
and refused to keep me near.
If I had the words to give you to tell me how you feel
I wouldn’t need to spend these years
convincing us that this is real
I could write out by hand
the way that people wait in vain
but what’s the point of all this work
when I know I’ll wait again.

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