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you can't be seen, that's for sure, you're not suppose to be here, but you can't help yourself, he called, she called, does it really matter, it's love on 8th Ave.

slipping unseen on the train


can I slip on the train unseen
in the early morning light
not that I mind being seen you see
but today this is not my train

there’s ones that know I don’t belong
might ask questions
heading spinning, thoughts clambering
for alibi’s
excuses needed to be made why
I wasn’t at work or home today

can I do it, can I slip on the train
unseen
to get to where I must go
taking the time to be ever so quiet
the way I had to slip out
of my robe, and out the backdoor
a block or two away I’ll put his
perfume on
I have to make it to where I can’t be traced
I must make it there before the
melting of the morning dew

my nameless lover awaits me
his face never seen
only his voice over a telephone ring
when it is safe for me to come to him
to his waiting arms
to hear his kind words

I know you probably don’t understand
you probably don’t agree
or could it be
you might be whelmed with
alittle jealousy
all I ask it that you don’t blow
the whistle on me

you have to listen to me
please try to understand
his laughter resuscitate my soul
repairs the damage to my mind
from the blades of the swords
from words those who claim their kind
the cruelty from those who claim they
can accept me, but makes it clear
they only tolerate me only for the
sake of who’s wife I am

can I do it, can I slip on the train unseen
can I get to 8th Ave,
where kisses welcome me
his lips of moisture
his fingerprints upon my skin
staying with me from our departure
till the next time I can slip on
the train unseen
to our hide~away on
8th Ave.
for him to conquer
the flames where he touches the
neglected where the resignation
of
my soul’s dying coals comes out from hiding

he follows me, from where I leave
I not know how far he is from me
I never seen his face, I can’t call
out his unknown name
but I don’t have to


Somehow he’s always there
when I’m in need, somehow he
greets me
at the door where we meet
here on 8th Ave.

Wine chilled just right
meal of exquisite cuisine delight
music surrounding moods with
swaying candle’s flickering light
it’s been to long since we’ve been alone
he’s been away, making his fortune
to afford our little hide~a~away
he’s says I’m his cotton Jenny
I make his love, his world go around
I know where, when to touch him
I know when to let him sleep
to live his world
as he lets me live mine
the way it needs to be

can I do it, can I slip on the train
unseen
I’ll hide till the watchman is no longer watching
so I can do it, I’ve done it before
I’ll try to so it once more
to get to where I’m needed
or is it where I need to be
on the train taking
to
8th Ave