Contrary to popular thought, not all the blues are blue.
Like all roads lead to somewhere, not all roads will lead through.
& even though you say, "Well that's a fine how do you do!"
There are hours of conversation that we have to stumble through.
You pick up your guitar, you strum a chord or two.
While I pick up your diary & begin the flipping through.
Do I invade your privacy? Do I do that to you?
You invade my space with that ashtray that you threw!
You say the sinking sun begins the night anew.
A moment of completion, & now the day is through.
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