Who am I to complain of your absence on my eye
Can I ask “where are you” when I should ask “where am I?”
Who am I to let tears come anywhere near my eye
When my sins outweigh the number of days that pass by
Who am I to pretend that your absence tortures me
Were I to look into your eyes my eyes would fall shy
When my sins make my master weep every Thursday night
Whilst meanwhile these same sins make me do nothing but sigh
I watch the world burn and I have one of two choices
I can cry or I can cry and use the tears I cry
I can be the lover who weeps at his lover’s abence
Or I can be he who refuses a last goodbye
I can sit in a room and just say “yes, I’m waiting”
Or to prepare the ground for your return I can try
I can love you but love alone is just not enough
When you act because you love, you can hold your head high
I can say “I’m waiting” or I can actually prepare
So I can speak to you with a tongue of truth not lie
So I can obey your orders like the best of companions
And not reply to every order with the word “why?”
So I can see that you are you when you reappear
Or else come back at your service long after I die…
Who am I to call you out every Friday morning
And pretend to get upset when you don’t reply?
Who am I to call out “where are you, I am ready…”
I’m waiting for you… But maybe you’re waiting for me
* * *
(Utah – 18/06/14)