Frances Quinlan Rare Thing
My love in the dream, you were already speaking
I was too shocked to make any one of my tired speeches
Listen, that's a rare thing for me
Sunlight touches on the plants that I've been torturing
Yet when I come over I love that quick delay before your face lights in recognition
I know there is love that doesn't have to do with taking something from somebody
Was so much for me not real?
I only managed to stay small by making giants out of strangers
Through the chaos I can see
All afternoon you inhale every bouquet you meet
Come to think of it
The dream was a nightmare with no one who knew me just then
You were there
Two-foot tall little bear
You took my hand and introduced me to everybody
I watched as you were named on that mid-February morning
I know there is love that doesn't have to do with taking something from somebody
Was so much for me not real?
I only managed to stay small by making giants out of strangers
Through the chaos I can see
All afternoon you inhale every bouquet you meet
I have to stop myself and admit I am happy
There is love that doesn't have to do with taking something from somebody
Was so much for me not real?
I only managed to stay small by making giants out of strangers
Through the window you look out at me
I have to stop myself and admit you make me happy
