It seemed a foolish friendship.
Instead of a love affair.
As we told each other.
Not to really care.
To sail away to lands unknown
To sail away, solitary and all alone
With a past I want to flee
Heading for a future I don't want to see.
He was a newspaperman in the morning.
He was a newspaperman at night.
In between he became a nobody.
He always kept out of sight.
Well you’ve had time to think
Now you are at the lakes brink
The Lake of “Hopes and Fears”
Each of its ripples is one of your years.