Updated version of song; now working on melody.
Forty Five
I watched as they danced together and wished it was me but they were just kids and didn’t deserve my jealousy.
How I wanted him to look at me, the way he looked at her, I wouldn’t expect it right away that wouldn’t be fair but if she knew how much I was part of him perhaps we could share.
If you called my maths poor I would have to agree with just two numbers in my vocabulary, you don’t add them up or take them away but those two numbers four and five are here to stay.
The mini dress and jeans were just the start, as black and white suddenly became colour and spread across the world changing the perception of boys and girls.
Presidents got younger, shooting stars were bright, torches shone farther late at night. Parents felt threatened, their kids knew far more, they watched in horror as the teenagers moonwalked across the floor.
There was a click and I started to spin round, that’s when I became part of that pulsing sound, part of the bare feet slapping on the floor, part of the guard at the door, part of the music that would never grow old.
Every generation thinks they know more than the one that came before, it’s not something new, it’s always been that way, when teenagers become men they only think about the pay, girls become women and stop taking a chance, most only dance with their husbands, they stop looking for romance.
The world is always changing it never stays the same, gods come and go but non ever remain we wait for the next one saying it won’t be long, when it takes for ever we put it in a song.
Just a few months later I heard Eddy had died and even though many years have passed, the tears haven’t dried, I grieve that he left us so young without finishing the prose and notes in his head, but eventually realized you can’t if you’re dead.
Not so many people listen to me now because most have forgotten about him preferring to look for the cheapest sim. But like me he will never get old and on certain days in the future if you listen carefully, you may hear that pulsing sound, become part of the bare feet slapping on the ground, part of the guard at the door, part of the music that makes you want more.
If you press play I still start to cry because the music’s still the same despite so many years passing by.
You may not find me if you stream but those numbers four and five are still there, if you want to dream.
Smart-thread.com.uk 