Walking boots. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.
Each time that I walk down the road
I look at your former abode
On the far corner of the street
I remember when we would meet
I met you late, so late, in life
My fate fixed at a garden fete
Both alone, parted from our mate
So we made a romantic date
You came round one Saturday night
I dreamed of how you'd hold me tight
You gave me a bunch of flowers
We talked joyfully for hours
I thought that we were fixed for life
I'd be your happy second wife
But no, I was wrong, what went wrong?
I pushed too soon, came on too strong
Your words now echo in my head
'You like me more than I like you
I'm sorry but what I must do
Is get my coat, goodbye, thank you
'I'm glad I came, but you should know
Because we're bound to meet again
So, although this romance must end
I'm sure that we can still stay friends.'
I won't mope, but no longer hope
So long ago it seems a dream
But I remember with pleasure
That night's first moment I treasure
For a year or two, I saw you
Sometimes when I walked down the road
When I passed your childhood abode.
You'd called on your mum. So I halloed
For one moment you'd look at me
You'd smile pleased, sorry, knowingly,
Then look back over your shoulder
And say, 'It's late. I have to go'
Your mother died, you never cried
I joined you at the funeral
I showed my husband your new wife
Sad, glad, we'd all moved on in life
Your house for sale, your house was sold
The house, like me, was growing old
The flowers gone, another face
A concrete drive, a different place
I still see you on the internet
I should forget, but remember
As I walk down the rebuilt road
Where others rebuilt your abode.
I think as I walk down the road
Of you, young, in your old abode.
As I walk down the now changed road
Still haunted by your old abode.
-ends-
Written listening to Country music.
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