In a Perfect World

IN A PERFECT WORLD

I’d be playing in a blues bar,
Into the long hours of the night,
Kicking back some Crown and Jack,
Always looking forward, never looking back.

My friends would be few, but very close
They’d live life to the fullest, each day to its end,
I’d go home to my loft in the Montrose district,
Waking through the night, through the rustling thicket.

My wonderful wife, having gone to bed hours ago,
Would lie in our bed resting, as crawled into bed and hold her,
She’d wake at dawn’s break, and get ready for her day,
And come give me a kiss, while in bed I still lay.

She’d be long gone, working in at her high-rise job,
Protecting the world from corporations and industry,
Doing what she loved, because to her she was changing things,
Making life better, for her and for him.

At lunch they’d meet at the park a few blocks away.
He’d have a picnic with her favorite sandwich and yogurt,
They’d sit on the grass and talk about her day,
About his next gig that night, and how he wish she could stay.

In her perfect world she wouldn’t know him.
Getting married to a well-off engineer living in a house downtown.
She’d be climbing the ladder of financial success,
As she danced in her room, holding her wedding dress.

In the real world they’re closest friends,
There to encourage each other, to get through tough days,
He tries hard to hide a greater love for her inside,
As she clings to another when she goes home and the sun subsides.