Most of all
by Steven Clotzman

I returned to Hollywood
One drizzly New Year’s Eve.
A few bills in my pocket
But no tricks left up sleeve
The morning found me lingering
On the mercy of the fall
But of all the whispered sad regrets
I miss you most of all

A stranger offered me a hand
And then a long goodbye
The kiss we she shared would not compare
To what I saw in her eyes
A gleam that struck familiar
Though where I can’t recall
And of all the colors washed away
I miss you most of all

But the earth can shake; rivers flow over
The brush can burn down to sea
But what’s all that to you, you’ve got so much to do
And then again, what’s all that to me?

Sometimes I wonder what it means
To have strayed so far from home
And never think to ask myself
How much of it’s my own
And maybe it’s unfair of me
To sound so damn appalled
In black and white or in between
I miss you most of all

But the earth can shake; rivers flow over
The brush can burn down to sea
But what’s all that to you, you’ve got so much to do
And then again, what’s all that to me?

But time is drifting now from me
And storms are raging near
Freedom rings inside my head
But just can’t seem to appear
And of all that’s printed on the page
Or scribbled on the walls
About here and now, and other dreams
I miss you most of all


© 1983 & 2008 Steven Clotzman - all rights reserved