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BLUE SUN ROOM FILK
Found on a scrap of paper, in the trash.
CATEGORY: FILK TIMES READ: 1702 RATING: 5 SERIES: FIREFLY
From Mal, To Inara
I ain’t no hand at poetry. I never had th’ time
To polish up my words an’ make ‘em rhyme
Been kickin’ ‘round the fringes, and I ain’t learned to do
Th’ kind’a things to please someone like you
Ever’ time I talk to you it never comes out right
An’ seems I up and hurt you out of spite
Want’a cut my gorram tongue out for th’ hurtful things I say
When you jus’ smile an’ take ‘em every day
I ought‘a say you’re beautiful, I ought‘a say you’re kind
I ought‘a say you drive me out my mind
But all that ever comes out is ‘harlot’, ‘tramp’ or ‘whore’
While ever’ day I want you more an’ more
Th’ courage that I see in you, th’ passion an’ th’ fire
Th’ spirit that supports me when I tire
Why, when you speak my burdens they just kind’a disappear
It’s so easin’ to my heart to have you near
Ain’t never gonna say it right. Won’t never have the skill
Don’t know th’ way to bend words to my will
So I’ll jes’ throw this trash away, and you will never know
Oh, God. My darlin’ girl, I love you so.
Tuesday, February 10, 2004 7:23 PM
Wednesday, February 11, 2004 9:51 AM
Thursday, February 12, 2004 2:02 AM
Thursday, February 12, 2004 3:11 PM
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