Summer Never Comes
Seeds planted last summer, untouched by the sun,
Bilge and balast meet the caulking of the basement wall.
Overhead a dragon fly skims a fetid swamp,
Mud caked boots and dirty streets, smell of sewage, moss and peat,
I don’t think this summer is ever going to come.
Take a breath of open air, turpentine and pollen
Lay my head upon your breast; brother’s out the wheat is set.
I don’t think this summer is ever going to come.
By the time that work is done, my legs too tired to reach your flat
My lips too tired to meet your kiss, I think this summer’s out of reach.
I don’t think this summer is ever going to come.
Key of A
