this time of year can be surprisingly ugly, deceivingly ugly
when not blanketed in white
the dead trees and lack of light
cars in the street

when i drive around, my muffler drowns out the sound of the radio
oh, what do they know
singing songs of love and blues
all the same chords overused
oh my mind's so abused by mad, uncharacteristically sad thoughts
this afternoon.

and the snow turns to slush
the gray sky in no rush
to leave my company.

oh i find myself parked outside your apartment;
will you come out driving with me?

i just cleared out a seat for you, but please don't look in the backseat
we can talk about the year, or the jobs we're thinking of quitting
oh, and if we get tired of sitting
we can park and walk a ways
look for signs of spring
and then retire to my livingroom.

and the snow turns to slush
the gray sky in no rush
to leave my company

and the pattern of sounds
as we drive around town
thank you for your company.

© 2008 - Lynn O'Brien