Published: January 4, 2006
Oh, there are no words that express it,
Save one, but I won't accept it.
Love, It's not a strong enough word.
All I can do is strum my guitar and wait.
Merely hours away am I,
From seeing your face, beaming and expressing,
All that is good, all that is healthy and embodies,
All that is love, all that is lovely and I know it,
So I strum my guitar and wait.
Somewhere, my someone is thinking of me,
And knowing me,
And accepting me,
And knowing, that she's my someone.
And somewhere, my someone is hoping for me,
And anticipating me,
And thinking for me,
And I know, she's my someone,
So I'll strum my guitar and wait,
But what rats scurry in the walls of my mind,
Those rats that bring bitterness,
Those rats what bring out the bad,
Those rats that hate all that is good,
Oh, how they scurry in the walls of my mind,
But those rats that bring out the bad,
So hate the strumming,
And so I'll strum my guitar and wait.
On the September night,
That night that I dread,
I was alone, just my guitar,
And I died, they say, still strumming.
The rats fear death, and have left me,
But I never saw you before I left,
I just strummed my guitar and waited,
But I never felt you coming,
On moonlit nights however,
You visit the stump on which I sat,
And you listen to my ghostly playing,
And you dance so jubilantly, for you know,
I'm watching you right beside you,
So you dance with your life,
And I strum my guitar, and wait no more.