If you were minenthen I'd write poetry all day and every nightnIf you were minenthe seas would part and all the stars would soon alignnIf you were minenwe'd lay awake and wrap our legs like cypress vinesnIf you were minenthen I'd read Kierkegaard to make you think I'm brightnnIf you were minenwe'd talk profusely about European winesnIf you were minenand lived in WalesnI'd set the clocks to Greenwich timenIf you were minenI'd carve wax wings and fly directly towards the sunnIf you were minenWe'd make Marquis de Sad look like a frigid nunnnWho waxed the floors and opened the trap doors?nBecause I'm fallingnIt's not as if you'd ever call menbut now and then you couldnacknowledge I existnI'd be your pièce de résistancenWe'd sit for days on porch swingsnmake hearts and rusted bed springs singnin three-four timenIf you were minennIf you were minenI'd sleep outside your doornthrough torrential rain fallsnIf you were minenthen I'd stuff thank you cards into the wailing wallnIf you were minenwe'd die poetic deaths like in Greek tragic playsnIf you were minenthey'd turn our funeral into a holidaynnWho waxed the floors and opened the trap doors?nBecause I'm fallingnIt's not as if you'd ever call menbut now and then you couldnacknowledge I existnI'd be your pièce de résistancenWe'd sit for days on porch swingsnmake hearts and rusted bed springs singnin three-four timenIf you were mine