Talking To You

Don't know what I want. Don't know what I need
Don't know who I am. Don't know who I'll be.

(This is simple shit indeed, and it might sound trite, but it's this shade that gives my days the shape of heavy plight.)

You cast a pall over my days since you passed away, which is to say you left me in a state I can't escape. And until you're back I know I'll never ever be the same, which is to say I know I'll never ever be the same.

When will I have my way pretty baby?
When will I think that I need you?
Why won't you get out of my way?
Whenever I worry now: who do I reach to?
I can't wait for you even if I wanted to
Why would I let my love go?
Watch me as I say what no love can recover from
For a soul such as yours I would never say anything other than 'I do'.

You'd name me and I'd need you. You'd be deep and I'll be true.

'But you made me!' 'That just what you do! Who was sleeping by myself at night, huh? Do you know?' 'Who was in my way?' 'I WAS IN YOUR WAY BOY?' 'In the bed or in the cemetery?' 'I wasn't your slave.' 'You could've had your way, babe'— 'no, I was not your baby.' 'You could've had my way, babe'—'no, I cannot go on watching this.'

World I need you, won't be without you.

'Ya you say that now-- what happens even after you've tried to?' 'Ain't nobody's
Different, you know just what you're missing.' 'You don't know what you did to me, I'm not the same outside of our rhythm.'

World I need you…

'You don't know what you did to me when you say 'what's up' in that (your so very yours) rhythm'
You loved me like no other did, boy.