In Some Other Love Song

It doesn't come easier, the older you get, falling in water and coming out wet, facing tomorrow when yesterday killed the feelings you felt when you thought you were skilled at rowing, sailing, or surfing the waves, when the fun disappears in the closest of shaves. 'Ah, but this time is different.' Did I really say that? It's hard to remember such a trivial fact when there's salt-water leaking from out every pore and you can't see the future in front, any more; nor the past, if I'm honest, my view is a blur. But I daresay I said it, this non sequitur. Whatever is different in this circular life? It's hardly emotions which wildly run rife and trample down senses like loosely strung fences. I hope once again I can shore my defences but, truly I know that there's barely a chance when my heart only understands pain and romance. Pain and romance, and then more pain again. Well, of course it knows loving, and then it knows pain. And throw in some pain while I go for a dip or go for a cruise on this romantic ship that travels to sea and dumps you in deep. You could drown in the water, but why lose the sleep? You won't ever win so why don't you give in? There's a vortex that draws you and gives you a spin but the time comes to pay and you always knew this. The pain is exacted for each loving kiss. I'm wet now, the water is pooled at my feet. Do you think that this woman accepts such defeat? No never, I'm ever the undaunted kind. I'll shake off my fur now, pretend I don't mind, then look at the map, find a different course. If the fuel's run dry, there's another fine source. I am sure, oh so sure, I can't always be wrong, it is written somewhere, in some other love song.