Wednesday, November 5, 2008

A Glass

Pour me a glass of your best water, mister,
I'm parched and in need of something clear-ly
refreshment, clearly uplifting because
this weight-lifting is taking a toll
on my shoulders, so, oh, i need
you to pour me a glass, mister, please

Drink and you won't be thirsty,
you said, and eat this bread,
and don't want, yeah, you said,
yeah, you said, and yet
here I am dried up and starving...
...but its not you, it's me.

Make straight the way,
Make these cracks and traffic fade
Fill each valley in between
With mountains bowed on bended knee.

Pour me a glass of you best, waiter, I'm waiting,
and probably in my haste, I'll spill it on my table,
because I can't be bothered to pay attention,
listen to a whisper when on TV there's explosions,
despite this guy beside me who knows what I'm hiding,
I've dropped the glass more times than I'd like,

Pour me a drop of your best water, father,
and bring me the bill, i'm the gratuity solver,
but please forgive my rude behavior,
I've only recently started learning to be patient,
I've only recently ordered what I needed and drank it.
I've only recently ordered what I needed and drank it.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I'll take a shot of that

juliamowens said...

this sounds like a song waiting to happen... a sweet upbeat one.