Ted Turner Interviews Dr. Sagan
We rolled miles down the hillside
and bottomed out in the street.
You laid on top of me and laughed at how fast
you could hear my heart beat, but
you're the one who used to pull me by the collar.
I guess I mean that you're the only one.
I'd have meant anything you meant to say;
I'd have smiled anyway, though really, I had fun.
I clung tight to your sunroof,
flailing out in the breeze.
You could've closed it on my fingers if you'd wanted.
You can still do to me what you please, but
you're the one who used to cover up my eyes.
I guess that you're the only one I have.
We knew tonight would be our worst, best night yet,
but we couldn't figure out if that was bad.
I didn't really think before I said to you,
"It's not enough to love. You've got to let her aim
so when she doesn't hit your heart and gets your shoulder you'll know what she meant, and there's no one to blame."
I said that hoping you would hear it hoping I'd say something else
before you figured out how dumb that was.
I said it hoping you would hear it hoping I'd say something else, but maybe just to hear me speak.
I said it hoping you would hear it hoping I would talk again, to feel my chest against your cheek.
I said it hoping you would hear it hoping I would let it go and we could watch the lights go out.
I said it hoping that you wouldn't notice, hoping I could show this in a less constructed way.