Everything that goes on in the pages of our book
Between the covers, brown paper-wrapped
Hidden in the stacks among the monthlies,
Old news and rags, and paperbacks
That's the way we like it - dusty and away
When everyone is gone
We brush ourselves off and play
Well written and happily unread
Your plain-spoken love, my obsessions
Your thing for jazz, my thing for ghosts
Your challenging musical library
My challenging sense of harmony
The way you stand, the way you hold your head
The way I hold your hand, any chance I get
This stuff used to scare me
Our unpredicted flight
But now I'm into it
Because when everyone is gone
We brush ourselves off and dance
I dust of your spine, you dust off mine
Written, unread
I dust of yours, you dust off mine
Well written and happily...