The other day, I looked down
on the elevator floor and I saw you.
You don't remember the silly nickname
I used to turn your head back in those
magic days, do you?
It seems anymore that
I'm the only one who does,
and all the silly things which
were done to show how much I cared.
Cupid's arrow through a pair of apples
in an old magazine cigarette ad in the days
when we'd race from opposite ends of the school.
When the teenaged heartthrob made our nieces swoom,
by proclaiming he was on top of the world in 1912,
the songs they sang spoke to me about tender moments
in a different time and place.
I only wished for comfort, but time and again,
I'm taken back to innocent days and the things that
I wish I'd said to you.
This shouldn't be, but it is,
this shouldn't be, but it is.
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