Where my memory goes

Seems that nobody knows
when I’m hanging out clothes
my emotions dissolve into tears
could be your scent in my nose
is where my memory goes
I get to thinkin’ on all of them years.

Perhaps I should enquire
if at all you’d desire
to relive some times that we had
when our love was on fire
and you may call me a liar
but there’s time when times weren’t bad.

I remember us strollin’
rockin’, reeling’ an rollin’
to some gig on a Saturday night,
then with fingers all swollen
as we finished off bowlin’
we kissed at that red neon light.

Here’s hopin’ we’ve learned
that our love was adjourned
and not hung up to die on a cross
with expectation more reasoned
and two people more seasoned
we could make up for all that we lost.


poem / lyric © copyright Brian Shirra 2015