C - G D It's a still life water color, C - G D Of a now late afternoon, C - G D As the sun shines through the curtained lace G G6 Gmaj G6 And shadows wash the room. Em And we sit and drink our coffee F Couched in our indifference, E Like shells upon the shore D You can hear the ocean roar Am G C In The Dangling Conversation G D C And the superficial sighs, G G6 Gmaj G6 The borders of our lives. And you read your Emily Dickinson, And I my Robert Frost, And we note our place with book markers That measure what we've lost. Like a poem poorly written We are verses out of rhythm, Couplets out of rhyme, In syncopated time And The Dangling Conversation And the superficial sighs, Are the borders of our lives. Yes, we speak of things that matter, With words that must be said, "Can analysis be worthwhile?" "Is the theater really dead?" And how the room is softly faded And I only kiss your shadow, I cannot feel your hand, You're a stranger now unto me Lost in The Dangling Conversation And the superficial sighs, In the borders of our lives.
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