In the arms of Cephisus

I meant to tell you what it was on my mind

I meant to tell you what I found in your looks

I meant to tell you what I heard in the songs

I meant to tell you what I think it’s about

The pounding song coming from the piano

It is what the young men expect to cure their heads

Their poor heads, full of disease, full of thought

I can’t admit that I trusted in my thoughts

Ever, for good or for bad

And I can’t admit I ever knew what was good for me

Let alone you

But I’ve always been good in an emergency

But I don’t think you ever expected me to emerge

Into the great son of Pomp

And I don’t think you expected me to be called

Anywhere near the time that I was

But you know I was always true, like the vibration of gravity

And I become the Daffodil to you didn’t I?

I become the blood of Narcissus

You know I meant to tell you so much

Maybe you can hear my words through Echo?

I meant to tell you of all the anticipation I held in my heart

I thought it would burst

I meant to tell you that a heart could never belong to another, only time

I meant to tell you I feel relieved when the year finishes

I know that one day you are going to come for me, you are going to come and put a hold on summer

While I go to stare at the sun and rest my head in the arms of Cephisus