The Dangling Conversation

Lyrics

It's a still life water color,  
Of a now late afternoon,  
As the sun shines through the curtained lace  
And shadows wash the room.  
And we sit and drink our coffee  
Couched in our indifference,  
Like shells upon the shore  
You can hear the ocean roar  
In The Dangling Conversation  
And the superficial sighs,  
The borders of our lives.  
  
And you read your Emily Dickinson,  
And I my Robert Frost,  
And we note our place with bookmarkers  
That measure what we've lost.  
Like a poem poorly written  
We are verses out of rhythm,  
Couplets out of rhyme,  
In syncopated time  
And The Dangling Conversation  
And the superficial sighs  
Are the borders of our lives.  
  
Yes we speak of things that matter,  
With words that must be said,  
"Can analysis be worthwhile?"  
"Is the theater really dead?"  
And how the room is softly faded  
And I only kiss your shadow,  
I cannot feel your hand,  
You're a stranger now unto me  
Lost in The Dangling Conversation  
And the superficial sighs  
In the borders of our lives.