On Call

When the call came, he always answered
He drove with abandon every time
A foot spurring the car faster than it had ever gone
Tires screamed
Bright red lights ignored
To be there
With her
As she wanted
This was all that mattered
Pressed up against her in the hallway
Ringed fingers pledged to love others, stripping away any barriers between them
She was all that mattered
She was all he had lost and needed to reclaim
There were no pleasantries until “after”
And leaving?
The pain of “good bye” was only slightly over powered be the joy of her “hello”
So he waited
On call


The only living boy in the world´╗┐

There are songs that stick with you and always just drift back into your head based on moments and times and they have this magical way of flooding your senses and soaking you to the bone with thoughts and,  yes, this is a run on sentence and I don’t really care…
“The Only Living Boy In New York”

Tom, get your plane right on time

I know your part’ll go fine

Fly down to Mexico

And here I am

The only living boy in New York
Of course, when I sing along I change “New York” to “the world” because:

1) never in New York that much

2) never felt alone in New York

And it’s this line that just slays me every time…
Half of the time we’re gone but we don’t know where

And we don’t know where…