this is my wrong to you

i'm wronging you this little song
cause I can't get it right
i tried to write it yesterday
and nearly all last night
i want to say some kinds of things
and say them in a song
but when the pen hits paper i am
getting them all wrong

i want to tell you that you're swell
but it comes out like swill
i want to call you Betty
but i end up saying Bill
i want to say your eyes are pools
but it comes out like pails
i want to sing it gently
but i hammer you with nails

i write until my fingers turn
a shade of cherry red
and when i've used up all my thoughts
this song is all i've said
i know it isn't very good
and isn't very long
i'll sing it in no proper key -
i hope you like this wrong.

blue bike

You saw the garage door
Wide open
In anything but a grin
I was so many years ago
On a boat or a train
And then you said something
And I returned to bed
I looked out
From the second story window
I couldn’t see anything.

We had to walk down the stairs
Like a scary movie
1 a.m.
The garage door was so open
But all it had to say was black
You saw my helmet on the ground
I had to pick it up
I couldn’t see anything
I couldn’t see my bicycle
You couldn’t either

The next morning
You saw the cut padlock
In the hostas
And then we could write
Our police report