windy road

Down to the church house

Singing hymns

“he is all that is smooth and unpainted”

“are you smooth are you painted today?”

no, she's opened her blouse

to the mail man and his letters

send him off first class

he's a paper doll

but who'll sing the lullabies 

who'll bake the dreams

in her apple pie? 

Bicycle

she's our friend

you take her home now

tuck her in close her eyes

turn on the sugarplums

I'll sing the lullaby

I'll bake the prayers

in her book of light

don't ask for me 

I'll send her my love through a rosary

still stringing beads

and counting prayers and wishes

until she sees me