This, I Will Do

While driving back home this song came on my iPod. I’ve heard it multiple times before, but this time I realized how much I truly enjoy listening to it. So I promise myself that I will learn the piano, and one day I will play this song for a lady.

We’ve got a long way to go
Before we finish our patrol
Light burns off in the distance

No one dares make a sound
Scared we might wake the snow
Sleeping giants love to listen

And tethered together by lines of gold
Two of my brothers on patrol
Our breathing keeps us in rhythm

Well honey I know it’s getting cold
Eye on the wool cape you have wove
I can smell your lavender and lipstick

You would never, ask me when I’m coming home
You know better, than to wait and watch the snow
While the other wives and mothers pray and count their rosaries
Not my lover, her lipstick lavender keeps her close to me

One, Two
One, Two, Three, Four

Hold me close as the hour escapes
Sunlight running on the mountain’s ravenous face
The moon came too soon and it’ll stay out too late
And I can feel that goddamn bell before they ring it
Gold heats in your hair promptly at 4 p.m.
Then cool to amber as the sun sets again
The light through the blinds paints patterns on skin
Your head dovetails so nicely on my chest where you laid it
When I’m out in the shop, faced to the forge
I think of you, my love, as I tend to the coals
Smiths with flames high in their eyes are all for show
Dreaming, lying to themselves that they’ve bridled Hades
A fire’s that’s good take patience, control
Even bellow breathing this work is painfully slow
But you must hold on because you’ll taste the reward
When that white iron draws out, just like it was painted
I know you know this, but I tell you this time
Because I need to say it out loud to feel right
You listen to me whisper it, my lips graze you ear with every line
And you memorize every word, just as I say it
Press into me, leave marks in my side
And I promise to pull you in until my knuckles go white
You’re breathing with me now as the sun slips behind the mountain ridge to the west
And the day is finished

Advertisements

About farmerrobbie

My head is comparable to a field of good soil where seeds land and yield crops a hundred times more than what was sown.
This entry was posted in Future Tense and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s