I am sat in Brooklyn in the diner,
and I know you and I do not know you,
I know you from around here,
I’ve seen you with a boyfriend or two,
I’ve seen the arguments,
I have seen you screaming your head off,
at some fool that was no good for you,
and I know that showing that you care,
does not come easily to you,
and you wear a mask,
and you try to keep your cool.
Yes, you with your hurt and your pain,
and with the agony of past hurts lodged in your brain,
I know you are trying to be balanced,
but there is something bugging you,
and your hands are a little shaky,
and your judgement is rather on edge,
and you are dangling on a precipice,
and you are dangling on a ledge,
and you are ready to jump,
and you are ready to attack,
for you have been savaged in love,
and now you are ready to be savage back,
and there are bitter years of bitter tears in you,
and these days you barely hold it together,
and about real love these days it comes and goes,
less frequently than the weather,
and about love these days you barely have a clue,
and you have lost all your ability to judge,
and now showing that you care,
does not come so easily,
to you.
And you are scared,
a scared little you.
And you are like Bambi,
with those eyes,
those hazel eyes,
that are filled to the brim with tears,
and ready to burst,
as if raindrops falling from the skies,
because your heart is in pieces,
and torn apart by so many lies,
and you will no longer tolerate fools,
and God help those,
who will try to do you wrong,
because you have little patience anymore in you,
and tonight, judging from the pain,
and the anger in your eyes,
God help those who try to play you,
because you I can see are at your wits end,
and you have crazy look in your eyes,
and in your coat,
I glimpse a knife,
and I am not quite sure,
what you are going to do,
but God help those,
God help those,
who come across you.
