The Average Tuesday

The fact that she sings every other tuesday night at the coffee shop down the street doesn't exactly upset me. In fact...im kind of glad for it. The fact that she wrote that song, well...I can't really tell you how that makes me feel. Even though her brown eyes trip every tool's switch, I'd like to think they only glaze when she looks at me. Id like to think....that she only looks my way?

But as life would have it, she looks many ways. She's alert, if anything. And she sings to more than just the coffee shop down the road. She's a traveling beauty with a nowhere road. She's where my subconscious takes me from midnight to 5am. If a dream's the only way I'll ever call her mine....so be it. She's mine in the dream. Roses in my hand Roses in my hand. I guess tonight, i'll fall asleep with a box addressed to your street, roses...in.my.hand.

I went to HS with this lady. Proud to know her. The thoughts above reflect what I felt while listening to her sing this song. Enjoy.