Friday, August 25, 2006

And now, even the song is over

Why don't we stop fooling ourselves?
The game is over,
Over,
Over.

No good times, no bad times,
There's no times at all,
Just The New York Times,
Sitting on the windowsill
Near the flowers.

We might as well be apart.
It hardly matters,
We sleep separately.

And drop a smile passing in the hall
But there's no laughs left
'Cause we laughed them all.

And we laughed them all
In a very short time.

Time
Is tapping on my forehead,
Hanging from my mirror,
Rattling the teacups,
And I wonder,
How long can I delay?

We're just a habit
Like saccharin.
And I'm habitually feelin' kinda blue.
But each time I try on
The thought of leaving you,

I stop...
Stop and think it over.

~ Overs: Simon & Garfunkel

6 comments:

Ph said...

Thanks for checking in when I was away. Hope you have been well.

J. Alfred Prufrock said...

Why for?
Ki holo?

J.A.P.

progga said...

The end of the party, JAP.

sanjay jha said...

cheers!!!
wonderful lines.
jhaji.

http://jhaji-jhaji.blogspot.com/

yesbob said...

life is like a newspaper, stay with the funnies and don't get lost in the puzzle section

Aan'sworld said...

Hi Progga, visited your blog and got stuck with these lines.Nice ones.

The thought of leaving is indeed a complex one.... happy and sad at the same time, yet it’s the reality of parting that makes new beginnings interesting.... life and its peculiar ways !!!!