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once i had a lover in berlin
said a frail old woman
at a table next to mine
his voice was like an ancient violin
and he spoke to me
that voice
i believe they call
it falling for a man
but this falling made me fly,
left me soaring over the sky
there wasn't any sense,
there was no plan
but who would trade this passion
for the safety of dry land?
not i.
not he.
and we knew
we had to travel far away
we knew we had to disappear,
where no one else could find us
a sailing ship would take us
from the bay
its sails would fill
with an offshore wind to blind us
we gambled our security the future
for the now
sailed off towards the storm, safety cast aside
we'd gone beyond what reason would allow
but who could tame the tide away
and tell it where to go?
not i.
not you.
reality then brought it to an end
said the frail old women,
shaking underneath her hat
a decent set of values is no friend
it's reason now that blinds us,
please believe
and passion is not willing to be steered
purity alone won't fill a ship's wide sails
life will sometimes bring what we most feared
and who could ever say
when to go or when to stay?
not you.
not we
not i
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