I Write For Me

You talk about gardens and talk about Prague

You talk about artists’ imitations of life and love

You talk about the “grander things” and we talk about you

But I ask how you feel and you can;t even think it through

You talk about your brothers and future happenings

You ask me what I think and I just smile because they’re only little things

You talk about of the color sqhems in the hotel rooms of dark and light

But I ask you could you live with me and you just kiss me goodnight

So, I won’t advertise that I love you

And I won’t tell you how your smile light up the room

You can just say that you’re impressed with my rhythm

Or something like that

And I won’t ask anything again anytime soon

You talk about bondage while I stare at the moon

And you talk about poet’s sonnets and summarize their doom

You talk of scheme of things where everything goes

But I ask you I am for you and you smile and say, “Who knows?”

So, I won’t advertise that I love you

And I won’t tell you how your smile light up the room

You can just say that you’re impressed with my rhythm

Or something like that

And I won’t ask anything again anytime soon

So I won’t pour my heart out and break when you don’t notice

And I won;t tell you how your loving sets me free

You can just stick to the technicalities

And I’ll just know that I write for me

I write for me

I write for me...