I missed the boat and she got a sleep train,
I've got to get her when she's in the mood
And now she's rattled off inside her brain
And I have missed my chance at playing crude.
I'll keep this in my mind tomorrow night
While weaving with my sharp poetic sword
If she says that she wants and it's alright
I'd better drop my pen and climb on board.
So now I sit here with my heavy hand
Imagining the things that didn't be,
And she is travelling through sleeps distant land
While snoring in the bed beside of me.
I hope I keep reminding me of this,
The next time she turns round and wants to kiss.
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