
I share the following without comment.

I share the following without comment.

Cyranny wrote some stuff about difficult love and dangerous relationships and it was really good …. but I have the attention span of a flea and suddenly, once again, I was off on a tangent and regressing back into my youth when, for just a few moments, I considered myself to be a rock and roll sex god, who wrote lyrics that were thankfully drowned out by loud music and unhealthy pharmaceuticals.
God, how I miss my own immaturity.
***
You’re infectious baby
I’ve got the disease
I’m burning up
Thirty eight degrees
Sweetheart keep your distance
Please don’t touch
I can take some rejection
But I can’t take much
(Chorus)
I’m lovesick, lovesick, I’m not feeling so great
Lovesick baby. It’s not something that I ate
But I have to bring it up. The condition won’t abate
Lovesick baby. Let’s regurgitate
I’ve got this burning love
It feels so pure
But it’s a hot infestation
And there ain’t no cure
I tried some meditation
With the doctor of love
And I promised dedication
To the Lord above
(Chorus)
I’m lovesick, lovesick, I’m not feeling so great
Lovesick baby. It’s not something that I ate
But I have to bring it up. The condition won’t abate
Lovesick baby. Let’s regurgitate
But the Lord said nothing
‘Cause he couldn’t understand
He was far too busy
And he wouldn’t lend a hand
So I took to medication
Ignored the hymns and the psalms
If this is going to kill me
Let me die in your arms.
***

Here’s another one. This time from Rory, who confesses a love for country girls. I find my own feelings to be slightly less specific.
***
She was a country girl, of course
A country girl upon a horse
Then laying by a mountain stream
A country girl within a dream
But then there was the city chick
Exciting nights. When hearts go quick
City lights. The city beat
Love found us on the city street
Girls from North, East, South and West
I don’t know which I like the best
I answer when I hear the call
Girls. I guess I like them all.
***

Today’s stolen idea comes, again, from Stella, for whom November has a special significance. Though it is not really my place to elaborate on that.
***
When it rains in November
I imagine you here
It’s on cold windy days
That I feel you near
There’s too much to remember
So why can’t I forget?
In November it’s raining
My world’s getting wet
When it rains in November
I crave for your touch
You won’t kiss me again
Though I miss you so much
There’ll be no pretender
There’ll be no one more
In November it’s raining
How I wish it would pour
***