another chair collapsing

                                                        I can
                                                        hope
                                                    a lie is true.
                                                 Too bad i didn't
                                                 think it through.

                                                        I'll go
                                                         find
                                                   another chair.
                                                      One day
                                          you'll see me sitting there.

                                               You can say its you,
                                                        its me,
                                                 or its no one, but

                                                     I don't agree.

                                                  I don't think love
                                                     acts like that.
                                  Its pulled down low like a Russian hat.
                                      It wraps around you bear-hug tight.
                                                   It leaves a mark
                                                      and appetite.

                                                 It's the familiar feel
                              of your mothers laugh and your fathers shoes.
                                           man, it's the top of the world

                                               or it's Potato-Head Blues.