Sitting in a living room,
The birds will soon begin warming up for their
Daily concert.
Though they are drowned out by the sounds of a Yellow Taxi,
I can still hear their songs
Echoing from this afternoon.
All day it's been about falling stars:
Joni Mitchell's lyric and the one in
My pocket. It seems to be fading
Every time I think of
You.
As the day begins again,
My eyes have not yet rested.
I catch a falling star but it
burned a heart-shaped hole in
My pocket, and I think somebody else
Picked it up.
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