“The Other Side” by David Gray
Meet me on the other side
I’ll see you on the other side
See you on the other side
Honey now if I’m honest
I still don’t know what love is
Another mirage folds into the haze of time recalled
And now the floodgates cannot hold
All my sorrow all my rage
A teardrop falls on every page
Meet me on the other side
Meet me on the other side
Maybe I oughta mention
‘Twas never my intention
To harm you or your kin
Are you so scared to look within
The ghosts are crawling on our skin
We may race and we may run
We’ll not undo what has been done
Or change the moment when it’s gone
Meet me on the other side
Meet me on the other side
I’ll see you on the other side
I’ll see you on the other side
I know it would be outrageous
To come on all courageous
And offer you my hand
To pull you up on to dry land
When all I got is sinking sand
The trick ain’t worth the time it buys
I’m sick of hearing my own lies
And love’s a raven when it flies
Meet me on the other side
Meet me on the other side
I’ll see you on the other side
I’ll see you on the other side
Honey now if I’m honest
I still don’t know what love is
After reading Time's piece on Jonathan Franzen, I realize I'll never be a literary novelist. Too many ideas & not enough time to write 'em.–TT
You could be a literary novelist, with poem-like prose like Chronic City or The Road, but time ebbs away while your fulfill contracts and pay the mortgage. And who can blame you for that, particularly with a budding family. But, yes, if you wanted to be a thesaurus wonk, you have the skills.