Ending in June

Who did we think we were?
You and me on the sixth floor, pretending to be something real
and we were just too cool,
weren't we.

But really we were just the leftovers
sitting on slippery blue mats in the fitness room after school.
we really thought we could do it, didn't we?
Guilty by association, laughing where the silence lurks.

And far too soon it was far too late
and whatever we thought we knew just wasn't good enough for weekend blues
and clocks to point at the twelve and strike
until we couldn't even make the words we wrote stand up straight.

So what else could we do but smile when we felt so weak?
I guess I thought we'd be alright if we could learn to sing
and didn't let our sleeves get singed,
but we were tone deaf and playing with fire, weren't we.

Then came the time when thick was too thin
and Forever had the consistency of ground-up ginger.
What else did we have left but rainy days last Wednesday
and sunshine that smelled like vinyl records and jazz.

But days passed like taxi cabs into ambivalent June
and we can't just wait here for it to end, can we?
So take my hand and say we'll never die,
quickly, before the waves of goodbye hit us too soon.