And that's funny, because
My old school doesn't have any steps.
The janitor's telling me his problems.
Seems he broke up with his girl.
Everyone's gone, we're the only one's left.
Except for the band, I can hear them if I listen.
They're out behind the building,
Practicing for nothing
"What makes a girl do things like that?"
Queries the janitor, and I say, "I don't know."
I don't know his answer. I don't know much of anything.
My mind takes leave of this dreary setting
I see a figure in a suit, talking for all he's worth.
He thinks he'll win the argument.
Wait'll it's my turn, and he won't stand a chance.
That's over now and my mind moves again.
To a subject my thoughts forever frequent.
There she is. There she is again.
I remember exactly what she said.
And then she had to go.
She was back the next day.
We laughed and we sang and I have a bad voice.
I told her I lover her she said "oh."
I reached out and touched her golden hair.
To move it from her eyes
But it fell right back where it was
I was sitting in bliss.
Just watching her make music
And listening. To all she does.
She's gone now and I'll never see her again.
I tried to cry when I first knew,
But no tears came.
My friend the janitor says "things just aren't right"
"I know, old pal, things really stink,
But life must continue, just the same."
Carrollton, GA, 1975.10