Bridegroom

Late into the summer, when I cast back my mind

On the rivers of the spring, there's a crack in the air

And a house in the pine with a body to find

And a hole in the wall at which my heart does stare

I was married to a child in the many joys of May

"Frankly now mister, you've never been a young girl

I know you won't get it, I know you'll ask anyway"

Maybe if I'd listened she'd be above the crepe myrtle

The heart wants what it wants, its deceitful above all

I longed for that house, for a bride, and for a reason