Sunday, November 16, 2008

So Close to Being (and other early works)

I was wondering when I'd see you next
    by chance upon the street
Outside the times we planned by phone 
for rendezvous to meet
The first time was the night after —
 the third time we split for good
Next you were happy to see me 
was there something you misunderstood

We were so close to being close

Just a faint image of myself
Looking in the window from the outside

We were so close to being close
Sometimes the world seems small
When you've got no place to hide

You first appeared at my locker 
(As I recall) with a beaded necklace made for me
And catching your pony
With a handful of snow after a reckless riding spree
You loved me for that crazy spirit — 
rebelling from our hometown
Something wilder than the geese flying in the fall
 But even they're shot down

We were so close to being close

Just a faint image of myself
Looking in the window from the outside
We were so close to being close
Sometimes the world seems small
When you've got no place to hide

I saw you just the other day in a subway car 

sitting right across the aisle
We were just strangers ignoring each other 
as we whiled away the while
I'm wondering why I wrote this — 
perhaps it sounds absurd
But I just met someone who meant so much
 and didn't even say a word

We were so close to being close

Just a faint image of myself on the floor
When the windows been shattered
We were so close to being close
And all you can say as I pick up the pieces
Is that it never really mattered

© Feb 12 1975 Stefan des Lauriers


I wandered within a stadium watching each person on their stage
Thinking of ancient coliseums unforgotten through all this age
I wandered if this musical museum would warrant an historical page?

I stopped and thought about the infinite and it felt like Forever For a Minute

I smiled at a pretty redhead whose thoughts and mine one and the same
No introduction was needed for some how I knew her name
Like a fossil her past was embedded as fuel for fortune’s flame

I stopped and thought about the infinite and it felt like Forever For a Minute

In portions of omnipotence progressions of clouds floated by
Around a global circumference enclosing our minds like the sky
Deep within another universe where the winds of utopia fly

I stopped and thought about the infinite and it felt like Forever For a Minute

Somehow I thought that she was the one to stay with me forever
Perhaps it was a fading potion that shattered any future
She wanted to be with everyone I wanted to be just with her

I soon realized I could never begin it…

1971 Stefan des Lauriers


Sweet sweat on the lawn
Walk in the dawn
I long to see you
You’re far away
In some foreign land
I pity the sparrow
I cannot help you
I shivered in all of my bones
They’re all I really own
But these broken wings
And other things
That keep you on the ground

An eagle in blue
Permanent tattoo
That’s on his arm now
He looks so innocent
When he’s asleep
For someone whose bound
The symbol he’s found
It seems wrong somehow
Are those bars another tattoo
Or something just to look through
With broken wings and other things
That keep you on the ground

Reluctant choirboys
(Snickers annoy)
Carry a stretcher
Two dressed in their suits
Of mother’s joy
An angel has fallen
I heard them calling
Let’s go and fetch her
“But where will we take her to?”
That’s something they never knew
Those broken wings and other things
That keep you on the ground

A spotlight on ice
Trophy’s suffice
The figure skater
A child tires to climb    
Into her spotlight
But she has it made
With Ice Capades
(And jealous girls hate her)
Then she stands for a photograph
In the background faces laugh
At broken wings and other things
That keep you on the ground

A deposed model
And a baseball idol
Drove off in a flame
He buried the speedometer
In some lonely lane
But back here in town
With his buddies around
He plays the same game
It’s so easy to do
 If it didn't  happen to you
Those broken wings and other things
 That keep you on the ground

July 13 1973 Milton Stefan des Lauriers


We were sitting in Johnnies both having a coke
I said, “This is a place for those don’t fit.”
You looked at me serious (ly) but it was just a joke
We had liver and onions for the hell of it.

Thinking out loud with thoughts not worth stating
Taking turns in having our say
Like two actors our lines alternating
But we were practicing for different plays

The juke box it clashed with the pinball machine
“Till the last of an allowance had finally been tilted
We both had pour own home town queens
but the thought never occurred that we had both been jilted

The attic fan was slowly swirling 
I said, “Ambiguous ain’t it — the word ‘bound’”
The smoke has a way of curling
Thoughts drift; still hanging around.

In the next booth they shared a bag of potato chips 
You said, “Even us Greasers have some etiquette”
I said, “I like the savage way the bag was ripped
How it was laid flat so all hands can get at it.

With pepper and ashes the next table started a brew
In a glass putting ketchup and all they could find
Made a mess of their table for something to do
Living in this town has poisoned their minds

Outside you were in a different space
Girls waited for parents or boys with fast cars
Looking back I’m glad I went in that place
Now I know why you are stuck where you are

January 26 1976 © Stefan  des Lauriers


When you feel like part of the audience
That has stumbled on the stage
Unaware the players were acting
‘Till you were locked in a cage
You came too close to the edge
You were only taking notes
Overlapping the legs of Gods
Through times expanse of moats

I see you’ve gone and left a glass slipper behind
The mystery tramps magic is all in your mind

Ancient mead from the meadow
In this world of heavenly show
Honey goes with everything
Just ask Marylyn Monro
Greenleeves is playing on the harp
Coming from the Gramaphone’s heart
Tinkling notes from a music box
Have a dance with Goldie Locks 

I see you’ve gone and left a glass slipper behind
The mystery tramps magic in your mind
Someone swept you off you feet
With a psychological safety  net
You’ve swept beneath a rug
Thoughts of those you must forget
Talking Freudian slips
In between sips of wine
Time for you to black out
For love has lost it's shine

I see you’ve gone and left a glass slipper behind
But it ain’t you will they will try to find

March 16 19 75  © Stefan  des Lauriers


From twilight wine the night is mine;
Where were the fields where were the vines
That entwined with which young maiden’s feet
Crushing grapes to a juice so sweet
What brought this bottle to my hands
From Californian or Italian lands
What made the bottle at my lips
From land to land in what ships

The same moon shone on ancient Rome
That shone on us in a ring
So loud the song our lips did sing
It must have shook the starry dome
Between ports our vessel did drift
Until every sailor returned to land
Falling back like fingers in a hand
Opening up to receive a gift

Could it have been the wine she drank
That made her win me over
I’ve been told we do when drunk
What we mean to do when sober
Was it her heart that pumped the blood
So hard it tingled in her veins
Or was it both the wine and blood
To mingle and become the same

O like the wind at my window
That blows so hard it shakes the pane
Or Springs thaw the overflow
Overwhelms me swirling down the drain
There are treasures not meant to last
Shadows of diamonds in lace design
She came so strong and left so fast
Pleasures all owed to a bottle of wine


Take all you can I heard a fiendish voice say
“The worst that can happen will happen anyway”
I turned and saw it was a pessimistic solipsist
He insisted I should not resist, gave my wrist a twist,
            So I shook my fist
It’s a pity he won’t see the epitaph I write on his tomb
Aahe said “There are no tomorrows on the dark side of the moon/”

Well, puppy love held me in the doghouse I was in pretty sad shape
I asked a friend who’d been there how I could escape
“I’ll tell you a foolproof plan  — but you probably won’t do as I say
Just don’t regret the time you served, it would have passed anyway”
In time it will come to you and the woman, “all will swoon
For, “There are no tomorrows on the dark side of the moon”

I went to the library to see the advice the scholars had to give
One said “It’s simple really, it’s all relative — E=m2,”
     He said in a scientific breath
If this is true there cannot possibly be death
“Energy cannot be destroyed, know this and you can
      avoid a fatal misfortune. Forget all that hogwash about tomorrows
and the dark side of the moon”

Just to be whimsical I asked a little girl what she wanted to be
She scratched her head and then she said, “Hymn, let me see”
Then she smiled a smile worth more than worldly wealth
Her eyes twinkled and her nose wrinkled and she said “Myself!”
I knew the song was finished so I bought her a balloon
And told her, “The sun always shines on the bright side of the moon”

(Written while in “High” school, 1970 or 1971)


The sun made a cameo appearance behind the clouds
Shining its follow spot up to the crowd
They stood on the edge of a lake of dreams
And their feet were touched by stray sunbeams

I hope this brings a different light to view
If you see me see me as seeing you

I stood in a gallery with statues and such
The guards sum it up saying, “Do not touch”
I try to wash the guilt but the dirt is sacred
I only feel free when I am naked

I would be free if it weren’t for you
If you see me see me a seeing you

The ghost of Michelangelo whispers
I simply remove the marble that shouldn’t be there.
You know sometimes I feel like that marble
 When I’m so far removed from anywhere

A kiss is some thing that is felt by two
If you see me see me a seeing you

Sept 1972 Norway

“Be blessed to bear the one’s unkind, the bull will look right in your eye,
just strep aside and let it by.” Feb 17 1974 “From the Seat of an Apple Bough”

If you ever ask me if my hopes are too high, this is my reply, “Does the wind not touch the sky.”
Song For a Singer “The song will be there long after he’s gone.” “This is a song for a singer, It’s not a song about a sewing machine” “This is a song for a singer a song that all can sing along.” Jan 20, 1975.


The brook that flows between the hills
Is frozen still in winter’s chill
I used to come here in summertime
So deep in a quiet and wild rhyme

I’m thinking where the doe has gone
She was drinking where those water’s shone

I loved to watch her graceful ways
Like dancing sunbeams she never stays
An invisible picture I saw in her tracks
I swore I would take her or not come back

I saw her innocent eyes grow bigger
As through the sights I pulled the trigger
How would you feel they oft times say
I’d change places with her any day

November 20 1972 Budapest Stefan des Lauriers


His dad had a bunch of pornographic
Magazines stashed away in his room
Little Danny was coming out with things
That he just shouldn’t have said
One day he went up in Little Danny’s room
And found them stashed under his bed
I tell you right now if it were my kid
He'd be wearing he end of my broom

I’d wash your mouth out with soap
Abut there ain’t no hope for a kid like you
And the next time the police come
I’m gonna let them take away you

His Daddy had cartons of cigarettes
Had a lock on the cupboard door
One day he went to get a pack
But they weren’t there no more
Then he went up to Little Danny’s room
And there was a funny smell
Well if it had been my kid
I’d a raised a lot more than hell 

I’d wash your mouth out with soap
At fourteen Danny bought a Mickey
And broke it on the stairs
His old man should have flipped his lid
But he was just too drunk to care
I tell you right now if he were my kid
He’d be wearing the end my shoe
And if you say it’s none of my business
I’d say to hell with you

I’d wash your mouth out with soap

I bet by now you’re wondering
Just where he gets it from
Well he gets it from his father
And he gets it from hid mom
I don’t thing he’s getting enough
Instead of just playing dumb
He’s gonna get what he deserves
Cause his time will surely come

I’d wash your mouth out with soap

July 13 1973 © Stefan des Lauriers


First there is a primary colored undefined backgtound
Crayoned in a blanket of purity
The veil




The town’s history once stood for a lot
The mill in its glory— still stands in the same spot
They bulldozed the pond where we used to play
And the farmland was cleared for a suburban hideaway

Now we’re living where we should in a Suburbia in the Woods

You can see the model homes but don’t go after dark
They have German Shepard dogs that love to snarl and bark
The tradesmen flew from house to house they were as busy a bee
Gone are the meadows where wildflowers smiled for free

Now we’re living where we should in a Suburbia in the Woods

Now they long for the long weekends and drive to the campsites
Where everything is marked out for them and patrolled at nights
The lots are all numbered the trails have rustic names
Faucets and precut firewood comforts much the same

Now we’re living where we should in a Suburbia in the Woods

When the decades have decade and the structures have been stripped
Beneath the façade they are cheaply made little pride in workmanship
The buildings sported no dates the won’t last that long they feel
Where will they ever see quality not even their nature is real

Now we’re living where we should in a Suburbia in the Woods

Feb 16 1975 Toronto on © 2014 Stefan des Lauriers


From the moment you are born to the day that you die
You are molded to fit into the great lie
From the time you punch in to the  time you punch out
They use you and abuse you and shift you about

And all you have are two days out of seven

And a case of twenty-four to  take you to heaven
Watch the seven o'clock news and then off to bed
So much you don't see you're lucky you're lead  

Now they're trying to make he prices all freeze

So you fill up he freezer and prepare for the squeeze
The more you scratch the more you itch
Without the poor there would be no rich

Don't ask me no questions I'll tell you there are none

For if there were answers we'd all see the sun    

July 1 1974 Toronto       


l wish I were the notes I sing

So I could float into your ear
Heaven needn't give me wings
If you would only let me near

I wish I were a milkweed seed

Perhaps I could be caught
Within your hand and finally be freed
To float on silent as a thought

If I could be the thought of myself

That wonders through your mind
For that I trade a world of wealth 
Just to see what I could find

If I could be the wind that blew

Or a star that perhaps has had its day
I would be a wish come true
To love and send me on my way

extra (per)verse

If I were a speck of dirt beneath your nail

I'd entrench myself and try not to be blunt
I would treasure the moments without fail
Even more so if you touched your...


If I were a speck of dirt beneath your nail
I'd be happy as a bug beneath a rock 
I would treasure the moments without fail
Even more so if you touched your...


You think that you know me
You even remember my name
For all the times I've heard it
It's ever been the same
Then you act as if I know you
Are you some kind of fame
There are so many who know you
But to you its all the same

In your hands you would hold me
To whittle away so slow
I understand; you told me
But you're little do you know

Some people will say that they  
Never forget a face
All to the drop of a hat
But the time they just can't place
There are just so many features
To ever try and embrace
They fit the same expressions
Each fading smiles trace

Well you just have to be admired
How you hold yourself in the air
But you walk on a human ladder
And don't realize it's there  

Now some are filled with knowledge
And have a lot to say
But there's that absent mindedness
That gives them all away
But you know the simplest things
Are like the night and day
They are different all the time
But still the same always

July 2 1975 12:43 Actually Thursday (Go Train to Oakville)
[A song Written on a Train going West]


Have you seen the folksinger
Who sings The Streets of London?
In the dingy coffeehouse
The audience bored of the blues
Maybe there aren’t enough songs
For the benefit of the old
It’s easy for us turn our heads
If it isn’t euphemistic news

So this is what you show me
When I’m lonely, sometimes the sun
Just doesn’t shine
Let me take you by the hand I’ll lead you
Through the Streets of London
I’ll show you something positive
To make you change your mind.

So as I stood there listening
I thought of the real Streets of London
I thought I’d write a parody
Using dirty old men
You’d laugh at “show you something
To make you change your mind”
But that would show the true colors
Of what most of you are blind.

With typical highhandedness
You are an expert projecting guilt
 I wonder about the people
Who like that sort of song
I know it must have occurred to you
Why most people feel sad
So why not take the old man (by the hand)
And make him feel that he belongs

How do you think the old man feels?
Can you show him someone worse off?
If it isn’t enough that he’s helplessly
Abandoned in societies eyes
Romanticized as a hobo bum
Occupied trying to make ends meet.
Maybe he’s happy to be out on the street
And not in some Institution to die

© 1975 (July 4) Stefan des Lauriers


We climbed for different reasons
On the rocks about our lands
And he first one up would keep his vow
O lend the other his hand

I’ve made it to the mountain
Very few make it to the top
I can see by the trails some have fallen
And some have merely stopped

Even still you are climbing now
Ain’t it hard with a ball and chain to haul
Well it’s nearly the same for me
Gravity’s the chain and the earth is the ball

Some of the mountains are higher
And some are just plateaus
I’ll go through different stages
But I’ll get to the point I chose

Sept 73 Stefan des Lauriers


Fire and water got married and had a son of stream
They all lived in a house that was made of wood
The family could never work together as a team
So the house never came to see any good

The father saw the steam as being a cloud
A dream that is dreamed in vain
The mother saw it as herself and was proud
Without the fire it would rain
The steam knew it self and vowed
To be the power that drives the train

The parents stayed together for the child’s sake
Both were wrong but neither were to blame
Two wrongs made a right by mistake
Funny how fire and water can sound the same

The father could keep the house warm with his flame
He always kept his family above
You’d burn yourself when close to him you came
A person nearly impossible to love
He would destroy thought good as his only aim
[The bird of peace can be a vicious dove]

The mother was the water that grows the wood
Most people would think her nice
But often at will she could change her mood
If you were going to cross her you’d better think twice
It would be too easy to drown in her flood
You can see how the son was caught in a vice

Why the house never burned is still an unsolved riddle
If all the wounds heal remains to be seen
The son never took sides and suspended in the middle
Being what he was he couldn’t let off steam

Jan 24 1973 © Stefan des Lauriers


Go back to the time when I sent you the roses
Rode my brothers bike to the florist shop
I’se painting fences with turned up noses
A Gypsy summer one day I stopped
With six sandwiches take to the road
(From what mouth comes the wind on high?)
With my harp the peanut butter blues I blowed
As gulls flew across the scull of the sky

I run and I run but I can’t catch the sun
I’m only trying to follow my soul
The night at my back is holding a gun
It’s bullet sails thru a hollow hole

The Indian Summer unraveled its pool
I patched up my attendance and came
An honest Abe Lincoln she drove to the school
My history teacher can't remember my name
I came to a cowboy all dressed in white
He said the night always chases the night
I run and I run to an Indian
He said the night always chases the sun

Half a year saving to get in this van
The fanatic in the attic of a pop-top
I fell in love and it wrecked my plans
My heart like a cave where there dwell a bear
Hibernating in a dream of deep
A false voice of spring woke him from his lair
And he can’t get back to sleep

Back from Europe and the flowers I face
Are a field of dried Queen Anne’s lace
I look at each one as a single brushstroke
And the artist and I share an inside joke
The sky with a brush of a tongue to tell it
Will paint my lips and wet my pallet
The past is a comet with a tale to be told
Go forth in friendship with love in your hold

March 9 Montreal Stefan des Lauriers


Ice Cream Town there dwells a dog
A poodle of pure blood
Who rebelled against the clippers
And plays in all the mud
I’ve seen many a pet agree
That they don’t like pure bread
With Coco it’s plain to see
He likes ice cream instead

Got to race the summer sun
So it don’t run down your sleeve
And if you pet these pets
You can bet that you’ll be peeved
So beware you little kiddies
When you’re in Ice Cream Town
There’s never a child crying
Cause his ice cream is on the ground

Families come for miles it seems
On warm Sundays in their cars
All the ice cream you can dream
All for just a quarter
The children’s cones are free
And here’s the reason why
Many a child has lost a scoop
Looking for Coco’s eyes.

Got to race the summer sun
So it don’t run down your sleeve
And if you pet these pets
You can bet that you’ll be peeved
So beware you little kiddies
When you’re in Ice Cream Town
There’s never a child crying
Cause his ice cream is on the ground

Harry’s a cat that mastered the act
Of the cat’s meow
There’s many a cone given her
For sympathy somehow
Forgive her if she snarls sometimes
At other copy cats
You see this is her thing
And she’s so proud if that

Got to race the summer sun
So it don’t run down your sleeve
And if you pet these pets
You can bet that you’ll be peeved
So beware you little kiddies
When you’re in Ice Cream Town
There’s never a child crying
Cause hi ice cream is on the ground

And now the Orange Pineapple Sun
Has finally been licked down
The ice cream trucks came three times
To refill Ice Cream Town
Harry and Coco are sleeping
In their cozy corner villa
Their sticky fur is reeking
Of chocolate and vanilla

Got to race the summer sun
So it don’t run down your sleeve
And if you pet these pets
You can bet that you’ll be peeved
So beware you little kiddies
When you’re in Ice Cream Town
There’s never a child crying
Cause his ice cream is on the ground

© March 24 1974 Stefan des Lauriers


I was building a sand castle
As the sun upon the bay
Became a bright red wand
Of sparkling crystal rays
I looked at wrinkled fingers
All speckled with golden sand
And the universe
Was in the palm of my hand

Then a shell
With nothing in it
Made me think
About the infinite
And it felt like
Forever For a Minute

I was gazing through a spyglass
Through clouds above the coast
In the midst of ancient starlight
That had given up the ghost
Twas then the billowed sail
Of a moon come into view
Much like a phantom galleon 
Manned with a skeleton crew

Then a shell with nothing in it…

That blasted ship was leaking
Not headed for the shore
It was bound to go on creaking
Till it could sail no more
You may think your journey's over
When you’ve finally sighted land
Don't let your dreams be washed up
Like empty shells in the sand.

Then a shell with nothing in it…

 © 1997 Stefan des Lauriers


For those who must practice when their on the spot
The audiences attention is a bull’s eye — cause you miss,
 They duck, as you release the shot
Jokes fall on water as faint applause
You’re on the air amid the static of flak
And it ain’t no joke when the voices crack

Laughter is ejected from the from Bomb-bay lips
And becomes a bird that will never land
The bird is a plane that artillery rips
Exploding sounds at the Comedian’s commands
You’re on the air amid the static of flak
And it ain’t no joke when the voices Crack

So you’ve really got to rock it to make it to as star
You can never return to the stages you leave behind
No amount of polish can make an uncut diamond shine
Just know you twinkle alright just the way you are

You’re on the air amid the static of flak
And it ain’t no joke when the voices crack

June 26  1974 Toronto © Stefan des Lauriers


Long before the infinite roots of chance we face
At gatherings of intimate destined beyond a trace
It may have been a good turn the road was never wrong
A Friend you are lead to believe is a place where you belong

I’m happy that it happened I’d hate to see it end
We are were destined to be together for it’s just fate we’re friends

There are those who cling to lies wanting more than a friend
Truth can never compromise to amends that never mend
Perhaps they were once told they would meet the perfect match
Bound by their belief they hold trapped by the wrong catch

The wheel of fortune turns around but can you understand
Sometimes it takes a mighty ring to make us join our hands
Families of familiarity contempt breeds with every breath
Alone they share one instance to exempt their needs and death

JUNE 28 1974 Toronto Stefan des Lauriers


A Steeplejack named John
And a friend to all the pigeons
Said his job inspired him
To take a “firm stand” on religion

 John climbed that magic steeple
As the air was filled with snow
The reception from the bells
Was getting pretty low

The town was all arrayed
Just like a Christmas card
Smoke from chimneys played
As though signatures were marred

Anyhow I just have to tell you
The bells were lost in frost
John was supposed to fix it
At any reasonable cost

John looked out from the belfry
As a jet plane flew across the sky
And thought about his breakfast
Indigestion from things he fried

John examined the mechanism
And made a simple adjustment
And all the bells of realism
Took the town with excitement

So John went to his house
Satisfied with his task
He’ll tell you all about it
If you ever stop to ask

 June 30 1975 #3 ©  SK des Lauriers


A Thin King was thinking
Upon a Win King day
What the May King
Was making in such a blinking way

Said the May King to the thinking,
“You make me do what I do
If your thoughts go on linking
I’ll soon have some thing for you”

Said the thinking to the making,
“You wonder what I think—
The skies are so full of baking
 My Starving eyes do wink”

A Bay King was baking
Upon a stove of ink
And the Sin King was sinking
Thinking to make a stink

Said the Sin King to the Bay King
I’m so full so full of sin
But promise a piece of cake, king
I’m sure it won’t sink in

A Sea King came seeking
All the way from Pea King
He heard of a cake on China
“Cause the news was leaking”

The Law King was locking
The cake inside a jail (custurdy)
So the Sea king went sneaking
And got caught by his long tail

The Ate Kings were forking
When the cake was done
Co-operation when We’re King

Is good morale for fun

July 14 1973 Milton Ontario © Sk des Lauriers


“I’ll give you ribbons of silver and gold
To tether your heart in a gentle hold”
“I’ve been offered fine filigrees
I’ve had dozens of suitors but none suited me”

“I’ve two strong houses and a fine cow too
I’ll even build a house for you”
“My father has horses and many fine cows
I see nothing wrong with the house I’m in now”

“One thing I think is good omen
We have so much in common”
“What you’re saying cannot be true
I’ve nothing in common with a common boy like you”

“I would beg you a thousand times pleaser
But you’re a girl impossible to please”
“Don’t bribe or beg me when you’re on your knees
Unless it’s to ask “Will you marry me?”

Christmas Time 72 Milton Stefan des Lauriers


My life has been so dismal
‘Cause I never could decide
Weather I would take
A Blue or Brown Eyed Bride
Once I had two woman
One was brown and one was blue
Then a grey eyed platinum blonde
Made me forget about them two.

Well it happened on Saint Patrick s  Îay
She was sipping lemonade 
I wondered what color her eyes were
Underneath those shades
I was still unsure when she came home
Because the lights went quickly down
By golly  in the morning
One eye was blue and one was brown

O She said her name was hazel
But her eye were brown and blue
She was a sight for sore eyes
Our love was blind but true

Things got complicated
‘cause her sisters eyes were green
I’d be cross or cross-eyed
If she’d ‘ave stepped between
But then one day she left me
Quick as a wink she left town
 I’ll find the man who stole her
Cause one of his eyes was blue
And one was brown 

March 17 1075 Toronto Stefan des


It’s nice to come back from traveling
And see my postcard on your wall —
I go over to read it and you say,
“Don’t read my mail!”
And we sit on the couch
After six months it doesn’t seem so long
But this planet has gone
Halfway ‘round the solar system.
I’d wait that long again
The you ran into my arms,
But the way you cook
I think it might be sooner.
I sing:
She makes the best raison pie
She’s gonna send me one in the mail…

Remember that night
On St. John the Baptist and all
The crazy things we did that summer
In St. Antoinne Abbe.
I serenade you in your father’s car
So we wouldn’t keep him up…
He finally told you to come in.
So we stayed up t ill quarter
To five drawing crazy pictures in your notebook
Of ‘Teenage Folksinger’
And you:
She makes the best raison pie
She’s gonna send me one in the mail…

We go for groceries and Daniel smiles
At a child who starts to cry.
The mother gets upset and we can
Hardly carry the groceries home.
Manon comes in to talk
To the goldfish Plick and Plock,
Once she tried to take them
Out with a spoon.
I sit and watch you making
A sculpture for your art course
As you work you listen to me sing…
She makes the best raison pie
She’s gonna send me one in the mail…

We go to Man and His World
To the art gallery there
Then go to The Petite Oiseau
For some natural food.
It is drizzling and you want to
Run but I pretend I don’t
And you drag me down the street
Laughing and tell me
You’re gonna ride into Milton
On a motorbike wearing
Your leather jackjet and all.
 I’ll be mild-mannered as my mother
Says, “What do you see in that
Girl from Montreal?”
She makes the best raison pie

She’s gonna send me one in the mail…

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