The Ernest Way

You’ll bat an eye,

and I’ll forget to run.

You’ll smack your lips,

before a setting sun.

A hint a sign,

you’ll portend the day to come.

As you bid farewell,

to the only honest one.

Now I don’t know what I don’t know,

some empty space is filling me.

When what will be was meant to be,

phlegmatica is thrilling me, I will be . . . .

It sounds obscure,

like that day will never be.

But mark my every word,

just enjoy me while I’m me.

When the time is right and I can’t deny

that the well ran dry that the summer died,

That the falling leaves so peculiarly,

do remind myself of me.

When the mileage runs when the fun is done,

when what will be was meant to be.

When obligation is my only sun,

phlegmatica is thrilling me.

Everybody wants to cry for you.

Like Algernon I swear I’m Ernest, too.

Everybody wants to cry for you, my dear.

If I forget to fall just push me down the stairs.

When something sweet,

like a dew drop on a leaf.

Gives way to a “normal” day,

just demand a quick release.

When it’s alright here and it’s alright there,

everything is right baby at the time.

Darlin’ don’t despair nor should you stop and cheer,

‘cause you will just betray what is.

Now I don’t know what I don’t know,

some empty space is filling me.

When what will be was meant to be,

phlegmatica is filling me.

Everybody wants to cry for you.

Like Algernon I swear I’m Ernest, too.

Everybody wants to cry for you, my dear.

If I forget to fall just push me down the stairs.

I’ll make an Ernest way . . .

I’ll find an Ernest way . . .