Pull the Shades Down Low, My Love

Pull the shades down low, my love
Oh, my love…
My love which lies,
Which lies, within,
Without me, at times…
A heart which beats as my own,
A heart which beats as if my own,
But set to a different tune…

Pull the shades down low,
Down low to the windowsill,
Pull them low, that they might not see,
That they might not see you dance,
That they might not see you raise your arms to the sky,
That they might not see you set the table to the flicker of the lonely candle flame,
That they might not see you cry.

Pull the shades down low, my speckled silly grin,
Oh, how they would laugh,
How they would not understand…

Pull the shades down low, tonight,
And every night thereafter,
Not that they might not laugh,
But that you might laugh alone,
As you always have and always will,
At the absurdity of all this stage scenery that has been set outside the window.

Oh, and listen to the music play,
As it echoes through the rooms and hallways,
Let the music play, my doll of plaster cast,
Whose mind is wired and flickers with a steady glow,
Let the music play…

And it echoes though the rooms and hallways,
All day,
And it makes such a lovely sound,
Such a sound that you have known so many times before,
And will know so many times again,
Yes, it makes such a lovely sound,
That the others might come and gather ’round,
That what was lost might now,
Oh my love,
Might now be found.

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