In the shallowest part of the night while you quietly slept,
I lay here and I counted the hours to the sound of your breath.
Can’t you love me?
Can’t you love me how I want, please?
I went walking down on Second Street through the leaves and the clutter.
In the pale yellow sodium light, nothing has any color.
Can’t you love me?
Can’t you love me how I want, please?
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