Memories . . .
like the corners of my mind . . .
Last night I stayed up wiping my eyes like I was watching a Barbara Streisand movie.
But I was only watching a bunch of little boyz making misty watered colored memories on my living room floor.
(That's not what it sounds like, btw.)
This is the way they were at 11 p.m.
This is the way they were at midnight.
This is the way they were at 1 a.m.
This is the way they were at 3 a.m.
This is the way they were at 5 a.m.
Tomorrow these little boyz will be nothing but a memory.
My living room floor will be empty.
Life is so unfair!
Why did I only get 3 little boyz instead of 6 little boyz?
Why? Why? Why?
But don't cry for me Argentina. I can make do with half a half a dozen if I have to.
Why does everything always end up a misty watered colored memory of the way we were????