If I would have one more day with you, what would I do?
Would I take you to a beach, sit you on the sand, and hold you through the sun rise, swim you to exhaustion, gather grains of sand off your wet skin, kiss the salty water off you till my lips dry and start to hurt, read you from a book, while you turn darker, make love to you while the sun goes back down, wave good-bye to you while the moon emerges and you turn to shadow?
Would I take you to a gallery, place you in a painting or a mural, one of those post modern, incomprehensible ones, come back every day, sit down in front of your wall, and try to decipher you and where the lines used to be?
Would I take you home, to my room, bring you breakfast in bed, give you a long bath, wipe your body, slowly, kiss every inch of your skin, feel all your tastes on my tongue, cook for you while you would wear a cliche shirt of mine, and smile at me, uninterruptedly, would I make love to you, watch a fun movie, put you to sleep and hear your sweet breath next to me for the last time?
Would I take you to the park and watch children play while holding hands, like that day in Paris, behind Notre-Dame Church? Would I watch you day-dreaming and smiling, recording every single flickering of your eyes?
Would I take you to a down-low pub with live music, have a glass of wine, or more, and smoke a pack of cigarettes while listening to your beautiful accent? Would i drink myself to oblivion while you would vanish as a fantasy?
Would i take you to a far away country, walk and play with the baby all day, through the silence of the wind? Would i be, for that one day, the man you wanted me to be?
Would I take you to a square, big open square, somewhere, and ask you to marry me?
Would i open you up alive to see if my name was ever engraved on your beating heart?
Would i cut off and preserve your pretty head in a jar? Would i keep your body on ice, hoping to warm it up with the craziness from my heart? Would i brush your hair everyday, knowing how much you actually hated it? Would i pull out and carry your eyes with me in a golden box?
Would i torture you for the pain you caused me? Sit there and hear you screaming during paper cuts? Would i bathe in and drink your blood?
Would I just kill you, so no one else would have you? And/or would I kill myself, cause obviously there is no life without you?
Guess none of you will ever know...
Would I take you to a beach, sit you on the sand, and hold you through the sun rise, swim you to exhaustion, gather grains of sand off your wet skin, kiss the salty water off you till my lips dry and start to hurt, read you from a book, while you turn darker, make love to you while the sun goes back down, wave good-bye to you while the moon emerges and you turn to shadow?
Would I take you to a gallery, place you in a painting or a mural, one of those post modern, incomprehensible ones, come back every day, sit down in front of your wall, and try to decipher you and where the lines used to be?
Would I take you home, to my room, bring you breakfast in bed, give you a long bath, wipe your body, slowly, kiss every inch of your skin, feel all your tastes on my tongue, cook for you while you would wear a cliche shirt of mine, and smile at me, uninterruptedly, would I make love to you, watch a fun movie, put you to sleep and hear your sweet breath next to me for the last time?
Would I take you to the park and watch children play while holding hands, like that day in Paris, behind Notre-Dame Church? Would I watch you day-dreaming and smiling, recording every single flickering of your eyes?
Would I take you to a down-low pub with live music, have a glass of wine, or more, and smoke a pack of cigarettes while listening to your beautiful accent? Would i drink myself to oblivion while you would vanish as a fantasy?
Would i take you to a far away country, walk and play with the baby all day, through the silence of the wind? Would i be, for that one day, the man you wanted me to be?
Would I take you to a square, big open square, somewhere, and ask you to marry me?
Would i open you up alive to see if my name was ever engraved on your beating heart?
Would i cut off and preserve your pretty head in a jar? Would i keep your body on ice, hoping to warm it up with the craziness from my heart? Would i brush your hair everyday, knowing how much you actually hated it? Would i pull out and carry your eyes with me in a golden box?
Would i torture you for the pain you caused me? Sit there and hear you screaming during paper cuts? Would i bathe in and drink your blood?
Would I just kill you, so no one else would have you? And/or would I kill myself, cause obviously there is no life without you?
Guess none of you will ever know...
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