i keep thinking as i hear new music that i could write like that for you but what we've written is too different...too grave

i have written whimsy at times, though exacting at first for fear, more relaxed as you eased my trepidation, but lately careless and loose, testing limits at least once, and never whimsy for you, only to my own ear

when i lie at night and your ear is full
won't you lie with me again
when i lie at night and your eyes overflow
won't you set me to rights again
when i lie at night with eyes wide shut
won't you set that knife on the table
and tell me why you're leavin' me
you're not so young and blind i think
and not so sweet now that you drink
and not so tall as i once was
though you're no saint and got no flaws
i feel the pain when your eyes meet mine
'cause that knife edge aint so fine