OVERCAST VACATION
(Timothy Brickley and David Rheins)
Fall is coming.
I can tell by the way the light
falls off the wooden fence,
the leaves apprehensive.
Fall is coming.
I can tell by the way our eyes
skirt, avert the facts.
Uneasy, queasy.
Soon the wind will wail through the empty streets.
It's dark already, just eight o'clock.
Why do I decry what isn't yet?
I want to feel like I'm at home.
Not raise the bet. just sit and laugh.
Like Andy Murray, but oh no, not me.
Oh no, not me on this overcast vacation.
Summer is upon us
and I haven't done a single
summer thing, no picture people laughing
no sunny blue-sky beaches.
Alone, I atone,
past my spring, unhand the maiden
lock the door, sit on the floor
uneven, even as we speak.
CHORUS
Fall will come and it's just you to decide
how to fell the wayward hours
and withstand the autumn showers
and to finally face the fear you just can't hide.
You just can't hide
CHORUS
Copyright 1998, Timothy Brickley and David Rheins