Robert Francis Do What I Can
I still think ‘bout the days, driving around, with nothing to do, but find all the things we’d never found.
You were so pretty and we were so young, windows rolled down, singing old songs.
We’d come back to my room, the sun peaking in,
you’d put on your clothes and say, “Babe, oh I think I, I think I might like you.”
Listen to the shadows, hanging pictures, we were drifters.
We’d get too close and then you’d drift away from the one thing, hanging in the silence,
oh, our love was just too violent.
And you’d start screaming with my head in your hands.
I remember the time I said, “Babe, I can’t be your man.
But I’ll do what I can.”
And I always knew your bite was bigger than your bark.
I remember the nights I used to watch you sleep in the dark.
I had a good heart.
