The End

A table for two, the restaurant's booked,
Couple's popping champagne and exchanging amorous cues,
Yet here I sit, waiting for my beloved.
The courses begin, my eyes glance towards the window sill,
Cars rush past, but the number plate I know,
Carved on my soul, hasn't arrived;
I tell myself, it's only seven, wait for a bit more.

The waiter's pity, and I call for the cheque,
Tears rush as I depart this miserable place,
He'd said he'd come, I say
And drive through the desolate town,
Alone forever, What a pathetic clown!
Maybe a malevolent glance has caused this misery,
Balming away and cursing my day, I arrive at the shore,

This is the end, I whisper to the sea,
The crashing waves will finally set me free,
I get ready to jump, but my legs freeze,
And I sit on the sandy banks and cry myself to sleep.
With the moon as my companion and the wind as my foe,
I close my eyes and dream,
Of his sweet kisses of sugar and cream.