you rolled into the room like a thundercloud on the plains
it was all shock and awe, I had it written all over my face
held my paper cup high to collect the pouring rain
second chances come seldom, my mother used to say
you're an empire builder, with two little hands made of steel
and your figure's like smoke drifting up from your chimney heels
when your fingers lock mine, I get turned up in your wheels
fell asleep in Madrid, never made it to Seville
make no moat for the castle you build across from mine
lay your stones and your mortar, but don't make them walls too high
hide what you have, but leave something for me to find
if lovers are given, then someone read my mind
there I was, made of money, in a three part circus act
and they would boil me and pluck me, and I would grow it all back
we'd spend it all on the weather, buying clouds and thunderclaps
don't chase second chances, but grab them if you can
and the hats are all blowing, and the leaves are all changing shapes
and your hair is a-dancing, making art out of your face
and Jupiter is spinning Saturn's rings into lace
come over tomorrow, we'll watch them from my place
December, 2009
