Rhododendron
Rick Drost – Boston Hills Music 2006 All Rights Reserved

The city street’s deserted but for begging freaks and fleas
And grey-haired dogs who walk old ladies stop to let them sniff at trees
The crew-cut army private eyes the public telephone
And all because you left me here alone.

Shakespeare left his autograph in a copy of the Bible
Encased in plastic sandwich bags to ensure its due survival
But me I took it in for lunch and scarfed it down while I was on the phone
And all because you left me here alone

The reservoir is dryin up; the fish flop in the ooze.
And all the thirsty people have to drink is watermelon juice,
Whose price is high so when they die the sun will bleach their bones
And all because you left me here alone.

I slipped on your banana bread; my tongue is still distended.
My Rhododendron died and my Rhododidron ended.
I could have bled Rhode Island red but my razor blades had lost their hone
And now you’ve gone and left me here alone.

Well stars may rise and mountains fall and oceans take the place of land
And incantations, potions, charms may lose control but you’ll still command
What I can give: This song shall live when you and I are dead and gone
And all because you left me here alone.

@2006 Rick Drost, Cambridge MA, rick@rickdrost.com 617-354-3339