Charlotte Street

I was looking for a rhyme for the New York Times

When I sensed I was not alone

She said "do you know how to spell 'audaciously'?"

I could tell I was in love

And so I forced a smile contrary to my style

And she looked into my eyes

She said "do you want to go heaven,

Or would you rather not be saved?

Here comes my train

I'm on my way, will you not see?

I don't need your sympathy

I won't read your poetry, oh sweetness please

So she took me back to her basement flat

Which was down on Charlotte Street

Though it was never my intention

We were not intense, not least because--

"Well. if you must just take, then I'm a piece of cake"

That is what she said to me

And so I gave myself to her charity

Well at least that's how it seemed

Here comes my train

I'm on my way, what got into me?

I don't need your sympathy

I won't read your poetry, oh bittersweets

I was looking for a rhyme for the New York Times when I was distracted

Yes, those were precious times together that we wasted

Now I'm working hard for my union card

I must be leaving Charlotte Street

Though it was never my intention to stay so long

So long