Well I hope that I don’t fall in love with you
‘Cause falling in love just makes me blue,
Well the music plays and you display
your heart for me to see,
I had a beer and now I hear you
calling out for me
And I hope that I don’t fall in love with you.

Well the room is crowded, people everywhere
And I wonder, should I offer you a chair?
Well if you sit down with this old clown,
take that frown and break it,
Before the evening’s gone away,
I think that we could make it,
And I hope that I don’t fall in love with you.

Well the night does funny things inside a man
These old tom-cat feelings you don’t understand,
Well I turn around to look at you,
you light a cigarette,
I wish I had the guts to bum one,
but we’ve never met,
And I hope that I don’t fall in love with you.

I can see that you are lonesome just like me,
and it being late, you’d like some some company,
Well I turn around to look at you,
and you look back at me,
The guy you’re with has up and split,
the chair next to you’s free,
And I hope that you don’t fall in love with me.

Now it’s closing time, the music’s fading out
Last call for drinks, I’ll have another stout.
Well I turn around to look at you,
you’re nowhere to be found,
I search the place for your lost face,
guess I’ll have another round
And I think that I just fell in love with you.

–

Connecting with Tom Waits now like a brother,
and just looking for people who understand me;
sometimes they seem so few. It’s a lot to ask,
as seldom as I understand myself, but I’m tired of
feeling adrift. This life has a rudder, which until now
has been but another ornament. Do I have the courage
to allow it to be the instrument I use to guide my life?

I believe in compromise, though I try hard not to be
compromised by it. Sometimes everyone can come out ahead,
but more often life’s a matter of give and take,
the balance between is a razor’s edge in a relationship.
Often I’m too willing to give myself away,
but that always leads to destruction in the end.

Last night I spoke with Emily on the phone, and though
the conversation could be considered somewhat mundane
(though we had a good if brief talk on relationships)
I had something of an “oh yeah” sort of moment;
that this is what it felt like to talk to someone
I identified with, who I understood and who understood me,
how could relate and who cared. I won’t gush,
but it was a nice feeling. [thank you]

I’m feeling sentimental and easily swayed,
rocking like a buoy in the breakers,
waiting to capsize.

One day I’ll remember:
buoys can’t capsize.

And then what?