Walkin' Down

I met an old friend the other day, asked me why I walked slower, explain about talking lower.

I opined about a heavy heart, the sort one would drag around, whispered it’s hard to speak up when everything's looking is down.

'Cept I can still fake it, and make it if I gotta. Said I just plain don’t wanna. There’s no room for lies in a room full of sad eyes.

See that’s all I see, and the same’s foryou, as you've been lookin’ at me.
--

But let me tell you, like I told her – Some sunny day it’ll all come back - a bolt from the blue - a cold shot up my back.

She inquired after the hows, and a date as to when it'll be? And I replied honest and slow, lord I don’t know. Just the same she'd be welcome to wait, along side me.
--
In the mean time I can still hop to music, and saunter on a sunny day -- it’s all just a matter of keepin’ the beat, and swingin’ away.

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