July 18, 2011

He knows so little of love, this man,
And I guess even less about you:
For he shakes and he fumbles,
He moans and he grumbles
And can’t wait for each day to be through.
But though he says that he can’t,
You can tell that his heart
Beats a shambling rhythm for you;
And I know that he’d follow
Wherever you’d go,
If you told him you wanted him to.