Our language records centuries of broken metaphors.
The heart cannot be a singer. It's a summer storm.
When it grows too hot, it causes things to darken
Before a brilliant flash, then a crash when thunder harkens,
and then everything is wet. Winds cease. The air is cool.
While I'm up to fixing that one, than let me take the rule
That all relationships will be discussed in baseball terms.
Baseball is perfect. It makes sense. The players don't trade germs.
There are right techniques and paths on which the players roam.
Besides, it's when I'm single that I feel I'm most at home.
The heart cannot be a singer. It's a summer storm.
When it grows too hot, it causes things to darken
Before a brilliant flash, then a crash when thunder harkens,
and then everything is wet. Winds cease. The air is cool.
While I'm up to fixing that one, than let me take the rule
That all relationships will be discussed in baseball terms.
Baseball is perfect. It makes sense. The players don't trade germs.
There are right techniques and paths on which the players roam.
Besides, it's when I'm single that I feel I'm most at home.
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