In An Effort

Early morning torment,
and I'm thinking of you.
Frustrated night,
and the blanket's on the floor,
Then in John Darnielle fashion, I slide across that floor and bash my head
against the wall in an effort to understand your continued silence.

Incoherent ramblings in my in-box,
and I'm still thinking of you.
Start some music playing,
and I'm assaulted by Farben Lehre's Snukraina
wandering what it's all about?
My Polish is lacking since you'd gone away,
and visions of your luscious body bring me no relief.

Do you ever wonder,
as I constantly do...
do you know what it is
You continually do to my peaceful nights,
turning them into awkward conversations with an empty room
or a fervent search for some sort of handy relief?

I have these flashes
of making coffee in a strange house --
your slumbering form under the blankets
you'd stolen from me in the night.
There's this contented feeling come over me,
as I stand there wondering exactly how much coffee I'd just put in the pot.

And you're coming home
after errands run.
There's your smiling face
seeking out my lips,
As I spill whatever I'm making all over the floor,
and we laugh at my stupidity as I stretch you out on the kitchen table.

And now Harry Nielsson's
screaming it out again:
We can make each other happy!
or the crooning in:

Cuando pienso en el futuro
veo todo tan oscuro,
no se por que te deje marchar,
y es necesario que te enteres sin tardar
de la verdad.

mi vivir
no es vida si no estas tu,
no podre
existir sin tu amor

I just don't have them,
the words I need to tell you,
My constant thoughts
and my fevered desires
Of what I want to bring you in the days and in the nights,
the making up for so much time lost, and clearer future, morning, evening, nights with you.