There is a fizzy little memory
that echoes in my brain,
It tinkles on the dinky keys,
the dominant sustain,
You ponder on the wondrous
of my dainty, naive hold,
but one thing that I promise you:
My love shall not grow cold.
I'll dance within the heartache,
I shall frolic through the woe;
I grant you - It is silly, but
I shall not let you go.
So maybe I am puerile in the
science of your smile,
maybe this is what she did,
what they've done for a while,
but let me be the guileless girl,
the devoted inbetween,
let me be your one day she,
your besotted sweet sixteen.
You never know, the pedal could
be pressed firm to the floor;
The tinkle on the dainty keys
could sustain forevermore.
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