Swinging up high, darling
There on your garden swing,
You wanted to fly, fly, fly
Just playing with dolls as kids
Dreaming up a home, full of violets and poems
You close your eyes,
And to the next world you go
Out of your mind, swinging hopelessly so
Painting all your scenes
In colours of velvet and hope
I wanted to tell you in a letter
That it would get better but I'm only a burnt out poet
I don't know how to drive, I make pretty pictures in the skies
I can't give you wishes like a genie
I can only make your tragedy into a sweet melody
my darling
Swinging up high, honey
Twirled in your own daze, eyes looking up
Shut them because the suns not so fun
The kids on the street, they hit the skates till dusk
They dance with us too, I know they're sad and blue
I promised to you I'd be back before
Spinning in my cherry Ford
Would I take you to the beach,
bum some blunts off the kids
Tell you about my love
I wanted to tell you in a letter
That it would get better but I'm only a small town poet
I don't know how to drive, I tell pretty pictures in lies
I can't give you wishes like a genie
I can only make your tragedy into a sweet melody
my darling
Take off your shoes, step in the sand
Feel how the ocean kisses our treads goodbye
Come over later
We'll get your favourite whiskey and coke
Take a drive downtown, we'll hit up all the old spots
Tell them you're back, tell them you've come for more
We'll play your melody out on the road
We can go fast, we can move wild, we can get high
No going back, just out in the east
Running from the world it's just you and me
My darling
YOU ARE READING
Beat Poetry
PoetryModern beat poetry, old school Kerouac, classic Lana Del Rey. If Lana Del Rey's music had an affair with Jack Kerouac's work their love child would be my poetry, set against the pop culture of America, the high of Cubano, the Lolita age where the gl...
