Le regard du narrateur

Aftermaths

Dealing with lost memories may sometimes seem absurd. When you stop and realize that everyone's grown up. Today you're not the girl who used to pass by my room. You'd join my older sister and stay in the afternoon. Dressing dolls with cut out rags that seemed to fit the fashion scene. You claimed that it was your biggest dream.

Everyone had rising hopes on the path eachone would take. Funny how we never hope that someday they will fade. My sister finished college and now she translates Hermann Hesse. Thought you would be married but that's a doll no one dressed. And i think about the days i was never there to see. Do you still think the same about me?

Someone told me yesterday That girl is not okay. Someone told me You should see the lines upon her face. I heard you took an interview wearing a miniskirt. Are you looking for a job or are you looking for a flirt? Washing plates on Saturdays at the local street café. Where the gossip goes you're doing business men.

Black strong tea for table three and a roast of ice cold beer. From the kitchen to the sink, there's a promising career. Your friends they stare and can't compare themselves to what you do. That sweaty shirt and greasy hands won't make much out of you. And you watch them as they laugh when they pass by the door. Your tears they are whipping up the floor.

Last three nights i shut my life and tried to read a book. But inbetween those pages all related to me and you. Afternoons repeat themselves and i wonder where you are. Manhattan lost its glow and Annie Hall lost its heart. Cowardly i done some aftermaths about what i felt. Why are you doing this with yourself?

Someone told me yesterday That girl is not alright. And i tried to tell myself i had more in my mind. But then i stopped to see you from outside the double glaze. Two holes in your eyes and your hair in such a mess. For a moment my life narrowed and i almost walked up to you. Nothing's more betraying than the truth.

Several years have passed, now i bring myself to say. There must be a titled registration you should claim. Something that provides a steady love life and a job. Something that will justify why you're still falling for. The same girl once again though she's right down by your street. Filling cups of coffee every week ...