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The Long Song

I sing to myself,
When nobody’s listening.
I sing of my hopes and my fears and of dreams and escapes and of planets unknown and of people I’m missing.
You’re a lyric in the song,
A whistle in the harmony,
A jig in my step,
A place that I want to be.

I only sing to myself,
When no-one is near.
I sing of my secrets and tears and of chances foregone and of what never comes and of people held dear.
Though you’re in the song,
It’s just for my ears,
But I wouldn’t mind,
If you overhear.

The song is my life,
Carries on just as long.
I sing of present and past and how I once was a boy and now I’m a man and when I’ll be old and when I am gone.
My song can’t be sung,
Without your key,
You’re more than yourself,
You’ve become part of me.

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